


Untethered

by Vixen13



Series: Here Be Dragons [1]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Anal Sex, Arranged Marriage, Buckle up, Culture Shock, Dragons, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Politics, Rimming, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, castle age, salty!Peter, using this to practice world building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-02-19 05:23:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 140,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13116939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vixen13/pseuds/Vixen13
Summary: Lord Peter Parker is the last of his family's line. He lost everything to the war when he was only a child and has been raised in the care of the palace ever since, leaving the other nobles to look at him as nothing more than a burden on the king's charity. When the leader of the reclusive nation of dragons, Chief Wade Wilson, came before the king to demand payment in the form of a wife, the nobles saw a perfect opportunity to solve two problems at once. Peter had his money, land, family, and now his nation taken from him. Moving forward, all he can do is hope that he will survive in a world so drastically different from, and far more dangerous than, the one he's always known.





	1. A Sudden Arrangement

**Author's Note:**

> Me: Don't post this until you finish your other projects.  
> Also me: *obsessively writes on this for two solid weeks*  
> Me: ...Fine. Post it. I quit you.
> 
> Anywho, I have this entire thing plotted and I've done way too much research than is sane for a fanfic in order to flesh out this world. We're going back in time for this AU and nobody has super powers and you're looking at me like "Why are you doing this?" and I don't blame you. Just focus on the Arranged Marriage tag. That's what I'm doing.
> 
> Special thanks to AiraKT for helping me with naming places and dragons. Also, thank you TheJello for betaing and threatening to chain me to a toilet in order to force me to write faster.
> 
> Quick note on languages: I’m using a lot of modern syntax in my languages as a kind of “equivalent modern day translation.” I will not be using garbled words or attempting to write in another irl language and instead just note when things are not understood. I will not blatantly/repetitively point out which languages are spoken if a person is translating between two parties because context will dictate who is speaking what and when. Tediously naming the language spoken kinda kills the flow of the scene. Ja feel?
> 
>  
> 
> _Also, since I'm using everyone's real name, I will link their first appearance to their wiki Marvel page._

From the tall, arching window of the library, Peter stared at the sky in awe. In all his twenty years of life, he’d never seen a dragon, nor had he expected to. Yet, there it was, flying overhead, majestic and so very out of place over such a large city. It was a small dot in the sky, so high up one could barely hear its cries.

Even more fascinating was that Peter knew there was a rider atop the dragon. There was an actual person on the back of such a large beast while up that high. Peter wondered what the world looked like from up there. What did it feel like to fly?

“Lord Parker!” An out of breath servant ran up to Peter, giving the barest of bows before speaking again. “The king requests your presence at once!”

Of course. With the dragon in the air, it meant the barbarians from Kocrax had arrived. Most of the advisory hadn’t expected anyone from the dragon nation to survive the war, much less show up to claim their end of the bargain they had made with King [Jameson](http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/John_Jonah_Jameson_\(Earth-616\)). Peter could picture it so clearly — an uncultured Craxian group interrupting the festivities and the king beet red with angry annoyance.

Peter grabbed his journal of notes from a nearby table and followed the servant from the room. They would need to hurry in order to not raise the king’s ire any further than it likely already was. Peter was somewhat bitter about the fact that he wasn’t already at the king’s side. He was technically part of the royal court, and thus should be in attendance at the week long festival that celebrated the end of the Forty Year War.

However, Peter was seen as nothing but a burden at court. He was a landless lord who had lost his family and estate to the war when only a child. Everyone loved to inform Peter that he was a drain on the king’s hospitality, living in the royal palace as he was, with no means to pay taxes. Thus, he was given all manner of tasks that none of the other nobles wanted to take.

One of which was being the advisor for the Kocrax nation. It had been unprecedented that King Jameson was able to strike a deal with them to fight in his war. The Craxians were known for never leaving the borders of their lands. That meant very little information was available and Peter had struggled to find the appropriate texts in order to learn their culture and language enough to be decent at his appointed job.

His main source of information came from a book written long ago by a scholar who had lived in Kocrax for most of his life. Peter had made a vast array of personal notes for himself in his journal, but some of the Craxian traditions had stuck in Peter’s mind on their own. They were most certainly a very… _different_ culture.

Peter was lead to the ornate balcony that overlooked the performances happening in the expansive courtyard. All of the highest and most well off nobles had a seat, and they all sat in neat rows to either side of King Jameson’s ornate chair. Servants scurried about offering food and drink, though a few gaped at the spectacle below. Peter followed propriety and focused only on his king as he hurried forward and bowed.

“Puny Parker finally joins the elite,” Duke [Thompson](http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Eugene_Thompson_\(Earth-616\)) muttered under his breath, though loud enough for others to hear. Peter ignored him.

“You took your damn time, Parker!” King Jameson snapped in greeting. “Someone get him a seat! I need him to translate. These damn ruffians interrupted everything.”

A servant scurried over with a stool and Peter took it, leaving him sitting far lower than everyone else and staring through the bars of the balcony’s edge at the ground below. Performers stood off to the sides and groups of people huddled close together, creating a wide berth around a group that looked very out of place among the colorful ribbons and glittering arrangements.

There were five men in the group, three of them standing beside some of the biggest horses Peter had ever seen. The other two stood on either side of a horse drawn cart, their hands hovering over hidden weapons. How they had made it so far without the guards turning them away was beyond Peter.

It was likely why they all had horses with them. Peter had read that Craxians used dragons for everything from travel, to labor, to battle. However, such fearsome creatures would have never been allowed inside the city. Not that the war horses looked any less intimidating, despite their current lack of armor.

The men all wore brown riding pants, stained and undyed linen shirts, and thick leather vests with intricate designs pounded into them that Peter couldn’t see the details of from such a distance. A man at the front of the group took a few steps forward, holding a rolled up scroll in one hand. He was covered in gruesome looking scars with only a few patches of hair peeking through his otherwise bald head.

King Jameson’s speaker stepped up and announced formal titles and inquired about their presence. Peter desperately tried to keep up with it all in order to translate into the Craxan language. When the speaker was finished, Peter stood up and stumbled over the words, his face burning ever brighter as he tried to pronounce a language he’d never been able to actively practice.

Behind him, some of the nobles chuckled less discretely than they should and King Jameson huffed in a way that twisted Peter’s gut. Below on the grass, the man in front had a smirk on his face as he watched Peter struggle. It was humiliating. When he was finally done, he abruptly sat back on his stool, doing his best to curl in on himself and disappear.

The scarred man bowed in an over the top way that was somewhere between mocking and a careless attempt at formality. He cleared his throat as he stood back up. “I appreciate you tryin’ to translate, but I know a good deal of Bralish.”

Peter’s shoulders drooped in relief. The man’s eyes seemed to flash with a bit of humor, like he was watching Peter. It set him on edge even more than he already was.

“Well, get to the point,” King Jameson snapped. “What does he want?”

“May we inquired on the reason for your sudden appearance, dear allies?” the speaker shouted.

A hard smile spread across the scarred man’s face. “My name is Wade Wilson, chief of the Swujan tribe, and leader of the Kocrax contingent in your war. Now that the war is won, we are here to claim our end of the bargain.”

King Jameson swore under his breath. “As if I have any noble blood available for him to take from us. We need all the women we can get right now to help secure the family lines.”

The speaker took his cue from that. “Good sir, we regret to inform that the war has cost us many lives, noble and citizen alike. Currently, all of our noble women of title are either married, betrothed, infant, or no longer of this world.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Chief Wilson unrolled the scroll in his hand. “I believe there were other options here if a wife was not available…” He perused it haughtily as if it wasn’t obvious that he already knew what it said.

Peter had helped translate that document. He knew what it said as well, and King Jameson was not one to let go of such a large sum of gold and reserves. It occurred to Peter that was why they had brought the cart. They never expected the king to uphold his end of the bargain.

“We would most certainly provide you with a wife once one is available,” the speaker hurried on, feeling the hard press of King Jameson’s anger on the back of his neck. “When a noble daughter is born, we can arrange her betrothal and send an envoy once she is of age.”

“Ahhh, see, that won’t work on my timeline.” Chief Wilson was an animated person, speaking with his entire body. That was a problem since his body language said he found the entire conversation idiotic. “Living with dragons means a short life span. I would need a wife sooner rather than later.”

“Alas, sir, as we have said, there are no available women of age—”

“No, I heard you.” Chief Wilson interrupted with a wave of his hands. There were a few indignant gasps from the crowd. Interrupting the king’s speaker was as if interrupting the king himself. “But you see, in my country, wives need not be _women_.”

There was a stunned silence at that statement. Peter had read such reports in his research, but seeing the occasional scandalized mention of it was far different from hearing a Craxian speak so blithely about it. King Jameson made a disgusted noise and the speaker took a few tries to find his voice again.

“That is not in our custom, sir.”

The smile Chief Wilson sported bordered on a threat. “I am aware, but seeing as the wife is marrying into _our_ customs, it should be no concern of yours. Of course, we can always take our share of goods and call it done.” He flipped the scroll around and shook it at them. “As it so says on your fancy parchment here.”

Those around Peter started murmuring to one another in distress. After such a long war, the kingdom could not spare the agreed upon amount of resources. It would mean that the glorious capital of Floa Bral where the king resided would end up on rations by the time winter came. King Jameson would not abide by such a show of weakness when the kingdom was still vulnerable.

“Your Majesty,” Duke Thompson spoke up. “Perhaps if there was someone in your court without any use, someone who would aid us better by being placed as a peacekeeping tool with the barbarians…”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” someone else picked up the line of logic. “Perhaps a noble who already knows their language and culture.”

Peter felt ice run through his veins and his stomach flip. No. No, no, no, no, no. They couldn’t. They wouldn’t! He wanted to turn and speak up, say something, anything. Hell, at least challenge Flash to a duel and wipe the smug grin away that Peter knew was there. But he couldn’t move a muscle, couldn’t breathe, could only wait for King Jameson to dismiss such a horrid idea.

The silence of the king stretched and with each passing moment, Peter felt as if a noose was tightening around his throat.

“We cannot possibly give in to such hedonistic demands,” the High Priest hissed.

“And would the church offer to cover the cost of the contract in return for one soul?” Duke Thompson argued.

Peter was going to be sick.

“You can marry off whoever pleases you, I’m not picky,” Chief Wilson piped up. “As soon as the marriage is done, we will leave. I would be happy to leave today, in fact. Or we can take our payment in goods, load it onto our cart here, and be off immediately. We have no desire to linger and continue to interrupt your little party.”

The people below murmured amongst themselves. Peter wondered if they were shocked at the nobles for considering such a trade. Likely not. All they cared about was seeing the group of scary foreigners gone. What was the loss a single unknown nobleman to them?

“In return for a lifetime of hospitality towards a single penniless nobleman, perhaps a sacrifice must be made in order to see our great kingdom prevail,” one of the king’s advisors said.

King Jameson hummed low in his throat. “I detest it.”

Peter sucked in a shaky breath.

“Your majesty—” a noble argued.

“Shut up. I detest it, but we cannot see the capital impoverished and at the mercy of vultures. We must prove our strength to other countries. They need to be aware that we will do whatever is necessary to protect our great nation.”

King Jameson was talking himself into it. Determining that it was the right thing to do despite the actions taken. Peter’s paralysis broke. He whirled to face his king, fear stark in his eyes. “Your majesty, you have no other advisors for the Kocrax nation—”

“We can train another.”

“Your majesty, I have been your loyal servant! I will continue to be always! I—”

“Enough. Take this with some dignity, Parker.” King Jameson waved his hand at his personal servant. “See to the arrangements. I want them out of my city by sundown.”

“Your majesty, _please_!” Peter threw himself from the stool and bowed low on hands and knees, babbling anything and everything that might help avoid his fate. The high priest voiced his concerns as well, but they were silenced by a few quick words from their king.

Guards moved forward and wrenched Peter to his feet. He fought them, screaming for his king to reconsider. King Jameson refused to look in Peter’s direction, avoiding the guilt of what he can condemned the man to. Everyone stared, but Peter didn’t care. He had to argue. He had to fight. There would be nobody else that would do so in his stead. It was a lesson he’d learned long ago.

The pompous decorations of the festival faded from sight as Peter was bodily dragged into the palace. The last thing he saw was Chief Wilson’s unrepentant blue eyes gazing at him.

 

~*~

 

Peter sat at the desk in his small room, quill still in hand as he stared at the letter he was struggling to write. His one and only friend, the son of one of the biggest merchant groups in Floa Bral, needed to be informed of Peter’s removal from the country. He had the option to contact anyone he needed to, but there were bare few people Peter knew to write to other than [Harry](http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Harold_Osborn_\(Earth-616\)).

The letter was short, explaining in a few quick sentences what had happened. Peter entertained the idea of Harry being so upset that he chased the Craxian convoy down and kidnapped Peter away. But that was pointless to dream of. It could cause a rift between the countries, Peter and Harry could be charged with treason, and someone else would have to take Peter’s place.

Quiet servants shuffled around Peter, packing all of his things into a single large trunk. It would most certainly fit since Peter didn’t have much as it was — mostly just clothes, books, and a few mementos from his family, along with all the documents needed to prove his nobility. Not that such things would matter much once he left the country.

Peter focused on the letter once more. He wanted to say something else, something heartfelt and meaningful. His mind was blank. All that came to him was the image of Chief Wilson’s face, twisted with scars and covered in dirt from travel. A face that would have every right to throw Peter onto a bed and—

The quill creaked in protest under Peter’s fingers. Shakily, he signed the letter and sealed it. There wasn’t much else to be done. He pulled a few hidden items from his desk and made sure to place them in the trunk. The servants politely turned a blind eye to it. What did it matter if Peter had squirreled away a few items or books? He would be gone by nightfall anyways.

An acolyte brushed past the guards posted outside the door. They were there to make sure Peter didn’t run. A good plan, since Peter very much felt like running. The acolyte ran his eyes up and down Peter’s attire and frowned. Peter wasn’t sure why it mattered what clothes he wore when being wed to a barbarian.

“The High Priest disapproves of all of this, but the advisory insists that this union must go well. They have requested you follow all traditions to ensure luck and prosperity in your marriage.”

Kocrax may have been a barbarian nation, but they were the only nation with dragons and all the exports thereof. If Floa Bral could please them, then perhaps one day they could make an official ally of them. The advisory had it in their mind that they could tame the savages to do their bidding.

Peter swallowed hard as his mind went over the traditions of marriage. “But we do not have time to have proper wedding clothes made and purified by the church.”

“Correct.” The acolyte had the courtesy to look uncomfortable when he spoke the next part. “Which is why the church is bringing over one of the ceremonial… _garments_ that we have available. They can be quickly drawn up to size.”

Shaking his head, eyes dancing around the room like a caged animal, Peter started walking backwards. “You intend to humiliate me further by putting me in a _dress_?”

“I’m sorry, my lord, but most nobleman have their own ceremonial robes stored with the church at your age.”

Which was something Peter was never able to afford. He had petitioned it a few times, but it kept being put off as unimportant since there was little reason to arrange a marriage to a lord with no lands or money. They had promised to have something made if Peter managed to find someone willing to marry him. After all, a marriage usually took far more time to prepare than a single afternoon.

“This will be less difficult on you if you bear your burden with grace, my lord.”

“Fuck you,” Peter spat.

The acolyte sighed and looked disappointed. “Guards.”

Once more, Peter was manhandled to the next stage of his doom.

 

~*~

 

Wade stood in a room with a domed stained glass ceiling and more sparkly things strewn about than his mind could handle. Everything shimmered and glimmered and twinkled and he couldn’t focus on a damn thing because of it.

In front of him, standing on a raised platform, was a man in heavy gold robes. There was a very large pendant hanging from his neck that easily reflected the light pouring in from above. Wade was distracted by that, too.

Since the wedding was supposed to start soon, Wade assumed the odd room devoid of any useful furniture had something to do with the customs, and the man was of some religious inclination. Wade hadn’t paid that much attention to Bral culture, to be fair. Learn the language, fight the war, collect his pay, and go home. That had been the basic plan.

He didn’t feel bad about that since the Brals didn’t care to learn or respect _his_ culture, why offer the same in return? They also hadn’t planned on following through with their end of the bargain. Wade had been prepared for that. Thus his current situation.

People moved at the back of the room and Wade turned the look. The scruffy haired guy they had chosen for Wade was being escorted in by someone in very fancy armor. It was obvious the guy was still reluctant. The dress probably didn’t help things.

Wade always thought the Brals were a weird group. They had rules for everything. Who you could and couldn’t talk to, who you could take as a lover, rules for marriage, rules for what _clothing_ to wear. It was all pretty idiotic. Normally, Wade would have been righteously amused to see a Bral man forced into a dress and looking uncomfortable. However, his bride seemed to be far more than uncomfortable.

Ribbons were wound around the man’s wrists and a cloth gag could be seen under the gauzy veil over his face. He was trembling under the the silver gown they had corseted him into. Wade couldn’t entirely blame the poor guy. The price to pay for having to learn the Craxian language ended with him being married off to a foreigner, removed from his country, and stripped of all the rights Floa Bral had promised when he’d been born the right gender.

“Man, I knew whoever got stuck with your ugly mug would hate you, but that one _really_ hates you.” [Aleksei](http://marvel.com/universe/Rhino_\(Aleksei_Sytsevich\)#axzz51Cvm4xC5), Wade’s personal guard and personal pain in the ass, snorted to himself in amusement.

“Shut up,” Wade muttered.

Sir Golden Robes scowled at them, but Wade wasn’t able to pay much attention to it. Between the sparkling baubles on the silver dress, and the shiny pendant on top of golden robes, Wade’s eyes were flicking all over the place. His fingers itched to reach out and toy with it all. He was an easily pleased man.

The ceremony started without Wade’s full awareness and it didn’t keep said awareness for long. It was boring and the fancy man in his fancy robes had a really dull voice that droned on forever. At some point, Wade was poked in the forehead with a drop of oil and he tried not to be offended about it. After all, if he’d been paying attention, he’d have probably seen it coming.

Sometime after that, Aleksei elbowed Wade in the ribs and that was when he noticed everyone waiting on him. He looked over to see that his bride had been turned to face him, so he quickly did the same. He looked over at Fancy McGoldenrobe for another cue and received an impressively haughty frown in return.

“You may now take your wife’s hands.”

Wade did so, noting how cold the fingers were. Likely the bindings were a little too tight. Wade needed to get them off as soon as possible and get the man changed into something practical. Dresses were good for a nice breeze on hot summer days, but they were shit for riding.

Aleksei kicked Wade’s boot. Wade blinked and looked back up at a very angry Goldenrobe Pissypants. “Do you promise to cherish, protect, provide for, and respect your wife, through all of life’s trials, as long as you both shall live?”

“Oh! Yeah. Ahem, _yes_ , of course.” Wade smiled and looked back at said bride, but his smile faded. His bride was glaring hard enough to set the veil on fire. Tears hovered in the man’s eyes, but he seemed determined to keep them in place. Wade could appreciate such tenacity.

“—and let this union be forever blessed.” Everyone murmured something appropriate in response to that, though Wade didn’t quite catch it. Much the same as when he didn’t catch anything else that was said. Really, he needed to get away from the sparklies and back on the road.

A man in less fancy robes walked up and bowed at them. “We have a chamber prepared for you to consummate the marriage.”

Wade’s wife yanked his hands away and took a step back. The person in armor stepped up in a menacing way, but Wade didn’t wait to find out how that would end. He whipped out his arm and pulled his new wife to his side, putting enough strength into his grip as a warning of what he was capable of. A small noise of fear built in the man’s throat but it was silenced a second later.

“Lead the way.” Wade smiled.

They ended up in a room with a large bed and nothing much else available. Thankfully, things were less shiny and glittery so Wade was able to focus a little better. The robed man had a scandalized look on his face as Aleksei followed the couple into the room. Wade thought the lack of proper oils would have been more scandalous. How exactly did these people think men had sex?

Not that Wade had time for such things or any intention at the moment. Aleksei grinned at the person outside as he shut the door and then leaned against it, casually watching the other two. Wade kept his arm around his bride who was trembling and breathing rapidly at that point. Poor thing was scared shitless.

“What was his name again?” Wade hissed under his breath at Aleksei, though he was fairly certain his wife was in no frame of mind to translate Craxan.

“Uhhh…” Aleksei pulled out the new scrolls they had been given concerning the marriage. “Yeah. About that. I can’t read Bralish.”

“Oh, fuck a tit.” Wade turned his attention to his bride and switched languages, trying to put on a reassuring smile. “No need to panic, okay?”

The man’s eyes didn’t seem to trust Wade’s words at all. They really needed to sit down and have a nice chat, but time wasn’t on their side. Wade sighed and ripped the veil off, tossing it onto the bed. That set his bride off who immediately started trying to fight his way out of Wade’s grip.

“Whoa! Calm down.” Wade pinned the small man against the wall and pulled out his dagger. In retrospect, that probably wasn’t the best way to win someone’s trust. The other man started screaming into his gag and doubling his efforts to push Wade off.

Unhelpfully, Aleksei just laughed at them. Wade spared an annoyed look at the man. “Would you go do something useful, like find some decent clothes for him?”

“Sure thing, newlyweds!” Aleksei cackled as he left the room.

“MmmMm!” Wade’s bride thrashed his head around and did his best to wiggle from Wade’s grip.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, I’m gonna cut these ribbons. Okay?” It took Wade a few times of repeating that in slow and distinct Bralish to get the man’s attention. Mr. Wife stilled, but continued to breathe rapidly through his nose. Wade tried to offer a reassuring smile. It didn’t seem to help.

Round eyes watched with great intensity as Wade brought the knife up to the other man’s bound hands. The fingers twitched and tried to jerk away, but Wade made a shushing noise and placed a hand on one silver clad arm to keep it steady. The smaller man trembled as the knife slid between his wrists and cut away the ribbons. They fluttered to the ground, revealing deep red valleys around pale wrists.

“Now hold very still,” Wade said and brought the knife up to the gag. Warm brown eyes closed as the metal slid along the skin and up under the cloth. Wade cut it away with a single flick of his wrist. He helped remove the spit covered cloth stuffed inside the other man’s mouth. Wade tossed it away without a backwards glance.

Up close, Wade’s bride wasn’t so bad to look at. Scared, skinny, and woefully unprepared for life in Kocrax, but also handsome, stubborn, and full of fire. Maybe given enough time, they could learn to tolerate one another. Wade could hope, since being pressed so close to the man was causing his body to be _very_ interested.

“Now turn around,” Wade said. “I’m going to get you out of this dress.”

The man didn’t move and didn’t open his eyes. After a few shaky breaths, he whispered, “Please don’t.”

Wade sighed. “Listen. I’m not going to touch you, okay? I just want to get you changed into something practical and get back on the road. Nothing else is going to happen.”

Those expressive brown eyes blinked open and looked at Wade with obvious disbelief. “Please back up…”

“Sure.” Wade took a few steps back, allowing some room between them. He kept an eye on his fidgeting wife who was trying to rub some feeling back into his hands. It drew Wade’s attention and his eyes roamed over the patterns sewn into the dress, seeking out the parts that caught the light and sparkled. So many sparkles…

“Why?”

Wade’s eyes snapped back up to large brown ones when the question was spoken. “Why what?”

“Why won’t you consummate the marriage?”

It was obvious that the man was asking because he needed to know the answer in order to calm down. Wade was happy to oblige. “As far as I’m concerned, we aren’t bonded until the ceremony that happens in _my_ country. Until then, I have a roll of parchment that says you have to stay with me. I’m just here to claim a wife. I’m not trying to hurt you or anything.”

“I have no lands, no money, and I cannot bear children. What use am I to you?”

“Plenty of use, but I can see now why they picked you to throw away.” That wasn't the best thing to say as it earned him a deadly scowl. “Eh, listen. I was expecting my wife to be completely useless, so I’m prepared to do all the heavy lifting. You just have to stand beside me and look pretty, ‘kay?”

That _also_ didn’t seem to improve things between them. Wade wasn’t known for his tact. He scrambled for something else to say. “What’s your name?”

“You married me without knowing my name, or even paying attention to it when the High Priest repeated it multiple times?

“In my defense, that room was very distracting. Besides, you don’t know _my_ name.”

“Chief Wade Wilson of the Swujan tribe.”

Wade huffed. “Yeah, well, you’re pronunciation of Craxan is shit.”

“I’ve never heard a single word spoken aloud!” the man snapped, and it seemed like a sore point for him.

Wade held up his hands, but the placating gesture was ruined by the knife he was holding. He quickly dropped his hands again. “You going to tell me your name or not?”

“…Lord Peter Parker.”

Peter Wilson now, but Wade wasn’t about to push that just yet. Peter seemed on edge enough as it was. “Well, Peter, would you kindly turn around so I can cut you out of that very pretty dress?”

For some unknown reason, that also seemed to piss Peter off. Still, he pushed away from the wall and carefully turned around to display the chord that corseted up the back of the dress from neck to adorable bubble butt. Wade wasted no time and cut through it with ease, pulling it apart so that the heavy fabric drooped, practically sliding off Peter’s pale skin of its own accord.

Wade fingers twitched with the need to touch. Despite how distracting the dress was, Peter’s smooth skin was also a sight to see. It had been a long time since Wade had gotten laid. He couldn’t seem to stop the dirty things that popped into his head. He forced his body to step back and put away the knife.

Aleksei chose that moment to briskly knock on the door, startling them both. He let himself inside, carrying a bundle of clothes under his arm. “He’s tiny. Dunno if it’ll fit.”

The clothes were handed over and Peter took them with a look that said he disapproved of how stained they were. Well, they didn’t have much of an opportunity to wash them properly while losing so many people to a war that wasn’t theirs to fight. Wade bit his tongue on such a remark and instead tried to give Peter an encouraging smile.

The dress pooled on the floor as Peter changed clothes and Wade eyed it with greed. “Do you think we can take that with us?” Wade asked Aleksei.

“Pah! We take that with us and you won’t be able to focus on sending your horse in the right direction.”

“But—”

“It’s thick and heavy and pointless.”

“But I’d look so pretty in it!”

Aleksei rolled his eyes. “Nothin’ is gonna make you look pretty.”

“Rude.” Wade poked at the fabric with his boot. “Maybe I can cut off one of those baubles to take with me.”

“ _No_.”

Peter eyed them with his brows drawn tight together. Likely he was trying to translate in his head, but they were speaking too fast for him to keep up. Well, that would get better with some time and exposure to the language. Peter wasn’t _bad_ at their language, he just said things in weird ways and with the wrong vowel inflections.

Once Peter was dressed, it was obvious that he was swimming in the clothes. Though the shirt and vest stayed in place as best it could, the pants were only staying up due to Peter’s firm grip on them. Wade snatched the veil from the bed and pulled out his knife again. He started cutting holes in the waistband and weaving the fabric through to create a belt.

So focused was he on his task, that he didn’t notice that he was kneeling with his face close to Peter’s crotch until he was tying off the veil into a rather fancy looking sash. Wade flicked his eyes up to find Peter watching him with a bemused look. When Wade smirked, Peter’s eyes flicked away.

“There! The height of fashion,” Wade declared as he stood back up.

Peter just rolled his eyes and refused to respond. Aleksei shook his head at the both of them. “We done here? We can’t afford to stick around.”

“Yep!” Wade wrapped an arm around Peter’s waist and yanked the man to his side. Peter sucked in a breath and immediately tried to push Wade’s arm off. Wade dug his fingers in until Peter winced. “You’ll be staying right here. No offense, but you look like a runner and you’re tiny enough to take off and hide like a damn rabbit. I don’t trust you.”

Peter scowled at Wade. “I’m not tiny.”

“Says _you_.”

It took a few tries for Peter to stop fighting, but eventually he walked alongside Wade, cheeks burning with shame. Peter didn’t make eye contact with anyone they passed on the way to the horses, nor did anyone call out to Peter. It seemed he may have been a bit unpopular. It was shit luck for the guy, but it was perfect for Wade. At long last, he had achieved a political marriage for his country. Things were finally looking up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I’m going to be using a lot of new terms in a high fantasy setting, I’m going to start dropping the occasional information key at the bottom of chapters to help with things. Please let me know if you would like anything added to the key.


	2. Swept Along

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have some friends drawing my dragon concepts for me so that you don't have to be tortured by my "art." Bless their souls. In this chapter the art is done by Bexorz, tumblr found here: https://bexorz.tumblr.com/
> 
>  
> 
> (I have spoken to this artist, discussed this with them, have permission from them to show this picture, have permission to talk about this picture, have permission to note and link to the artist who drew it, and am in continuous contact with this artist. Thank you.)

Night had fallen some time ago, but still they rode on. The two riders up ahead had lit blocks of fuel that burned with bright fire. They hung in lanterns attached to tall poles and easily lit up the surrounding area. The cart behind them also burned the blocks, leaving the riders in a puddle of light in the otherwise inky blackness of the road. It was enough to allow them to travel at an easy trot.

Frankly, Peter would have preferred to be hidden in the deep night rather than lit up and on display. At least they were out of the city. Having to be lifted onto a horse too tall for him to mount and then held in place by Chief Wilson’s giant and unmoving arm had been humiliating. The hard press of the man’s body against Peter’s back was constantly noticeable. He hated it.

“Are we going to be riding all night?” Peter asked and it was the first time he’d spoken since they’d left the consummation chamber.

“We just have to catch up with the troop. We’ll get some sleep and then head out again first thing in the morning.”

“We’re heading to Kocrax?”

“As fast as possible. We’re not a people that like to be away from our country and it has been far too long for most of us.”

Peter thought that was an understatement. The Craxian people never left their country. Even what little trade deals people managed were done along the border of the nation. Artists often had to guess as to what most of the Craxian people looked like or how they dressed. Often they were depicted as hardened warriors, covered in blood and war paint, and flying atop giant green dragons.

The truth of it was that they simply looked like a band of poor thieves. That knowledge did little to lift Peter’s spirits. In any case, he would be living in a country full of ruffians that had no concept of what was proper. Peter wondered if any of them could even _read._

In the distance, light flickered in and out of existence as they rode. Somewhere beyond the cleared road and into the smattering of trees was a camp. The two riders up front started to whistle, great piercing booms of sound that cut through the distance. A faint response was given from the camp.

“Shouldn’t be too much longer,” Chief Wilson confirmed.

Peter’s stomach took the moment of silence that followed to growl loudly. Considering the stress of the day, Peter hadn’t felt at all in the mood for food. However, with the ride as boring and uneventful as it was, Peter’s body couldn’t help but settle down and remind him that he hadn’t had anything since his quick bread and porridge during breakfast.

Chief Wilson snorted. “I’m sure there will be some leftovers for us. I would have stopped at one of the vendors on the way out of the city, but I doubt they would have served me.”

Likely they wouldn’t have, and Peter felt oddly embarrassed by it. Normally, the concept of his city being racist would have been laughable considering how many different types of people congregated in the capital. However, the Craxians were a different story.

“Anything you don’t like to eat?”

“I am grateful for whatever you will provide me, Chief Wilson.” Peter’s voice was far from cordial. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever get over the idea of being property to someone else. He was aware of what few rights women had in his country and had always been determined to make his wife feel loved and and safe and never stifled.

And look where such sentiments got him — forced to be a prisoner in all but name to the leader of a bunch of barbarians.

“You can call me Wade.” Peter could hear the smirk in the man’s voice. “Or dearest husband. Or love of my life. I’m not picky.”

“Wade it is.”

“Are you going to be this ill humored every time you speak?”

Peter didn’t respond. There were a thousand venomous things floating around in his head, but it likely wouldn’t prove good to his health to anger those around him. So instead he seethed with righteous anger. Of course he wasn’t going to be amiable. Who would in his situation? It was demeaning to be treated as if he was pouting instead of having a legitimate concern over his future.

The rest of the ride was accompanied by a heavy silence between them. Wade focused on those that came to meet their group and escort them the rest of the way with even more bright bricks of light. Peter knew what they were: [gella](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dry_animal_dung_fuel). A combination of vegetation and dragon dung that could produce more light and heat for a longer period of time than any other fuel source. They were rare and kept for emergency rations or for times when kilns needed to burn hotter for specific items. Seeing them used for common _torchlight_ was somewhat offensive.

When they were at last upon the camp, Peter found himself swamped with another wave of nervousness. He was surrounded by people he only knew in theory that were all speaking a language he barely understood. The need to run overwhelmed him. Perhaps if he could steal a bit of coin, he could use it to buy passage to the Osborns. Surely Harry and [Norman](http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Norman_Osborn_\(Earth-616\)) would house Peter and keep him hidden.

But then… It would bring down all kinds of trouble on their heads if Peter was discovered. He couldn’t run from the alliance that was formed between Floa Bral and Kocrax. He was trapped and at the mercy of Wade’s whims. The knowledge of that felt like a noose, making it hard for Peter to breathe.

Wade swung himself off the giant horse and landed with a thump. Peter had to be helped down, as his position in front of Wade on a horse far too large for his stature had left his legs a wobbly mess. Having to be pulled down and supported like a child was no less embarrassing than when he’d had to get on the damn beast.

Someone spoke with Wade and Peter could only catch random bits of words. He was pretty sure he heard the word for food in there. Wade seemed no less trusting of Peter in the middle of his men and maintained the arm around Peter’s waist as he walked them further into camp. Peter wasn’t sure if Wade’s belief that Peter could and would escape was a compliment or an insult.

They were escorted to a large tent that stood in the middle of a sea of them. A convenient placement so that sneaking up on their chief would not go unnoticed. It also worked for those sneaking _out._ Not that Wade seemed keen on leaving that to chance as Peter was pulled inside as well.

“You’ll be sleeping here tonight,” Wade confirmed as he took off his vest and tossed it to the side of a pile furs posing as a bed.

Peter swallowed hard and his stomach knotted immediately. “There is only one mat.”

“If you think I’m allowing even an inch of space between us until I have you placed in my house, you’ve got another thing comin’.”

Someone pushed aside the flap of the tent and handed over some bread and cheese. They spoke only briefly, the new person eyeing Peter with curiosity before getting kicked out. Wade walked over and handed Peter his portion. It took a few moments for Peter to force his muscles to move and take hold of it.

“Listen, I’m exhausted. I couldn’t fuck you if I wanted. Stop panicking.”

Peter’s face lit up in shame and he glared down at the food still clutched in his hands. “Easy for _you_ to brush aside, as the decision to violate me is entirely in your hands.”

“Isn’t it considered a wifely duty to get laid as often as possible in your country?” Wade snapped.

“I am not a _wife_!”

“Well, I got a written document that says otherwise.” Wade paced away and started consuming his food in great bites as he rummaged through a satchel for something.

Despite Peter’s anger and turmoil, his stomach loudly protested his continued lack of food, so he began to sullenly eat where he stood. The bread was stale and the cheese hard. It looked like soldier rations. Perhaps it was. It would make sense, given the circumstances.

Wade pulled out a bottle of oil and quickly finished off his meal. After that, he promptly began to strip. Peter watched in wide eyed disbelief at Wade’s carelessness of his own nudity. Also, the scars. They covered his entire body, swirling around in strange patterns of various types. Some covered large swaths of skin and were discolored, others were slashes that looks inflicted by swords or… claws.

“Were you burned?” The question was out of Peter’s mouth before he knew it was happening. It was a bad habit of his that he’d yet to break.

Wade glanced over at Peter as he began to rub oil into his skin. “I was, but it was years ago. Most of the scarring is healed over well and I don’t notice it as much.” He slapped a bright pink slash that stood out on his thigh. “This one’s new, though. Itches like fire.”

Peter said nothing more, surprised that Wade had even answered the question without a single concern. Usually people became angry with Peter’s constant comments and blurted questions. It left Peter feeling very off kilter given the situation.

The oil ended up not missing a single inch of skin. Wade rubbed himself down completely, even over his head and through the tufts of short hair. Peter assumed it had something to do with the scars right up until Wade turned to Peter with a beckoning finger.

“Your turn.”

Peter’s eyes went wide. “What?”

“It keeps the bugs off and when we hit the arid lands, it will help with the dust and sand. Your pampered skin won’t make it without some constant effort, and I’m not dealing with you complaining about lice because you didn’t want to use the oil.”

Peter’s eyes flicked up and down Wade’s now glistening naked skin. “Aren’t you going to get dressed?”

“Why? We’re about to sleep.”

“You sleep nude?”

“I wear clothes all day and that shit is uncomfortable. I’m not _sleeping_ like that, too.”

Peter frowned and took a few cautious steps forward and held out his hand. “Just give me the oil.”

“Why? So you can waste half of it trying to put it on while still dressed?”

Peter scowled but he had nothing to say since that was _exactly_ what he had planned to do.

“Get undressed.”

Grabbing the sides of the too large vest, Peter pulled them tighter together. “No.”

“For fuck’s sake, you act like you’ve never been naked around other men.”

“No men with a vested interest in my body.”

“I doubt that, but that’s beside the point. My only interest in your body right now is keeping it healthy. Get undressed or I will undress you.”

They stared each other down, both of them too stubborn to relent. All that meant was that Peter would inevitably be overpowered. It had been a long time since his compulsory training in combat and he was not in top physical shape. For the past few years, most of his time was spent in the palace library. Though he felt confident that he could take on an average street thief or hold his own in a duel, Wade was far beyond that skill level.

Gritting his teeth, Peter pulled off the vest with stiff movements. He tried to tell himself that undressing of his own accord was better than being forcibly stripped. It did little to comfort him. Wade’s eyes were a heavy presence on Peter’s skin and every hair on his body stood on end because of it.

There was a pause when Peter finally stood naked before Wade for the second time that day, but all Wade said to it was, “You’re skinny.”

“I’m sorry I’m not the voluptuous woman you hoped for.”

Wade rolled his eyes and bent to pick up the bottle of oil. “That’s not what I meant. Why must you take everything as an attack?”

“Then pray tell why you felt the need to point it out.”

“It looks like you’ve not been eating enough.”

Peter blinked. He was used to being mocked and insulted by others and had built up defenses against it. He expected no less in a group full of battle hardened warriors. Wade’s comment had been devoid of sarcasm or bite, and Peter had no experience to draw from to determine how to respond to that. Yet it seemed too odd for Peter’s mind to accept that Wade was truly concerned for Peter’s well being.

Wade moved forward and Peter backed up on instinct. One large hand shot out and grabbed Peter’s wrist, yanking him back. “Stop running! You’re making me nervous.”

Peter spluttered at the gall of that. The only one that should have been nervous between the two of them was Peter. Before he could even form a scathing enough reply, Wade’s hand was gently smoothing up his arm. A thin sheen of oil traveled in its wake. Peter’s arm twitched with the need to pull away.

“I can do it myself,” Peter insisted and wished that his voice sounded more steady than it did.

“It’s tradition for married people to help the other out. It’s hard to reach all the places on your back by yourself. I didn’t make you do it to me, so you can at least sit still while I do this. I’ll be quick.”

Peter racked his brain to try and remember if he’d read that or not. It didn’t come to mind, but then again, it’s not like a scholar would be privy to the personal grooming habits of married couples. Still, there was a chance Wade was making it up. Not that it mattered. If Wade was insistent on doing as he pleased, there wasn’t much Peter could do to stop it.

Wade’s calloused palms slid along Peter’s skin with surprising care. The oil was used sparingly, just enough to soak into the skin for protection, but not enough to leave Peter feeling uncomfortable with it. Wade’s fingers and the heel of his hand helped massage it into place. Peter ignored how nice it felt and how careful Wade was being.

_I’m not some delicate woman. He shouldn’t be treating me like this._

Then Wade’s hands moved to Peter’s back and the movements pressed a little deeper, digging the muscle as much as the skin. Peter’s head dropped forward of its own accord as Wade worked out the stiff muscles in Peter’s neck, shoulders, and back. It was nice, having those places pulled out of their stress induced rigidness, though Peter was loath to admit that.

When Peter’s back was finally relaxed, Wade’s hands slid around to Peter’s stomach. It looked very much like an embrace with Wade still standing behind Peter and all that work loosening Peter up was undone in an instant. An exasperated sigh ruffled the back of his hair.

“I told you I wasn’t going to do anything to you. It hurts when you treat me like a liar.” Wade didn’t sound hurt at all, just flippant.

“Forgive me if your actions speak otherwise.”

“And here I am just trying to be helpful…”

Peter searched his mind for a scathing enough retort but his thoughts were derailed when Wade’s hands slid down to the groove between Peter’s thighs and groin. Peter sucked in an indignant breath, but when he tried to move away, Wade’s arms locked into place, holding Peter firmly against a wall of solid, naked muscle.

“I won’t lie to you,” Wade calmly said as Peter fruitlessly tried to push scarred arms away from him. “I find you attractive.”

“Let go!”

“And I enjoy touching you.”

“Get off me!”

“But I’m not going to force myself on you against your will. That is a _Brals_ custom. Kocrax doesn’t believe in it.”

Peter froze. “What?”

“Why are you surprised? Your government sells women off all the time, uncaring of their wishes. They did it to _you._ I mean, Floa Bral isn’t the only country that does such things. My momma always told me not to leave Kocrax. ‘The dragons keep us safe from the insanity of the outside world.’”

“I… No… That’s not…”

“Then what would you call your current situation?”

Peter didn’t respond. He didn’t know _how_ to respond. Wade began moving again, rubbing the oil along Peter’s groin and legs in perfunctory movements that showed he wasn’t interested in lingering. Wade moved around to face each other and carefully ran his fingers along Peter’s face before combing oil through Peter’s hair. Peter stayed mute and still for all of it.

When Peter’s eyes stayed distant, Wade’s hands moved to grab Peter’s ass in a way that said he _was_ interested. It snapped Peter out of his daze and he pushed Wade off, scowling at the smirk tugging along the scarred face. A little voice in Peter’s head said that it had been purposeful, that Wade was allowing himself to be viewed as the bad guy in the face of Peter’s internal crisis.

Peter felt sick.

“Come on! We need all the sleep we can get.”

Wade dragged the quiet Peter down to the pile of furs. When Peter tried to make sure there was distance between them, Wade wrapped an arm around Peter’s waist and pulled them together. Once more, Peter tried to push Wade off with no success.

“I like cuddling something when I sleep,” Wade muttered and squeezed Peter closer to him as he threw a thin quilt over them both.

Peter glared at the canvas ceiling of the tent and tried to ignore how Wade was half on top of him. Perhaps Wade would be able to get sleep, but Peter wouldn’t. His mind refused to stay silent. It flew between the implications of Wade’s earlier words, to if their purpose was manipulative, to half asleep bursts of paranoia that Wade was about to ravage Peter whenever there was a shuffle of movement.

All Peter could do was lay there and hope that morning came a little faster.

 

~*~

 

Wade was helping break down camp in the predawn hours. Peter sat by the cookfire with a few guards that seemed to be unnecessary. The man was more withdrawn and sullen than normal, though that was likely due in part to the deep bruises under his eyes. Wade wondered if Peter had managed even a wink of sleep.

In contrast, Wade slept like a baby. He decided that boasting about that wasn’t very polite and should keep his mouth shut on it. That happened for all of five minutes. Still, even without his ramblings, his energy levels while seeing everything packed up was noticeable.

“You seem in high spirits,” [Solo](http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/James_Bourne_\(Earth-616\)) noted as he glanced between Wade and Peter. “Is that why your wife looks like death warmed over?”

“All I did was sleep! Not my fault he’s skittish.”

“Can you really blame him?” Solo hefted a pile of canvas onto one of the carts.

“Why James, are you insinuating that I would hurt the poor little lamb?” Wade dumped a bigger pile onto the cart just to show off.

Solo scowled at Wade. “I told you to stop calling me that. My _mother_ calls me that.”

“That’s because it’s your name, _James_.” Wade smiled to himself as he secured the items on the cart.

“You’re insufferable.”

Wade blew Solo a kiss as he headed off to help finish packing the rest of the carts. Once they were done, he jogged back to the cookfire to grab something to eat before it was all devoured. Peter sat on the ground, chewing slowly and staring at nothing. He jumped a little when Wade plopped down next to him.

“Mornin’, sunshine.” Wade started shoveling his food down. “Been making friends?”

“With my babysitters?” It didn’t have the bite Peter’s tone normally did, likely because he was still tired.

“You won’t get better at the language until you practice it.”

Peter didn’t say anything and stubbornly shoved food into his mouth so he wouldn’t have to talk. He seemed to think he was stubborn. He had no idea who he was dealing with. Wade won every stubborn _and_ annoying contest the world over.

“What’s that called?” Wade pointed at the fire in front of them. When Peter didn’t respond, Wade started poking Peter’s arm until the man snatched it away with a curse.

“It’s a fire!”

“Say it in Craxan.”

Peter sighed and softly attempted the word in Wade’s language. He seemed prepared to be mocked and jeered at for it. Wade just calmly corrected the pronunciation and had Peter try it again. A few more rounds of that and Peter seemed to relax, allowing Wade to coach him on random words while they finished their meal.

The impromptu lesson was interrupted when the trainers started pulling out the [karusson](https://bexorz.tumblr.com/post/168925590446/karusson-dragons-design-for-thatvixenchick) to attach to the carts. Peter gaped at him, eyes almost comically wide. A few people around them chuckled at Peter’s response, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“Are those…” Peter whispered.

“Dragons, yeah,” Wade confirmed, watching Peter’s face in as much rapt attention as Peter watched the karusson.

“But their wings…”

Wade glanced over at them. They were stocky creatures with thick back legs that held them mostly upright. Their bodies were large enough to call them fat, but it was mostly muscle. Thinner arms stayed tucked into their chests. The wings on their backs were small and mostly used to slap others in the face or for mating gestures.

 

 

“The Swujan clan bred them that way generations ago.” Wade shrugged. “We mixed different species and bred the lines for what we wanted. The goal was to have them be strong and flightless.”

“Why?” Peter asked.

“Just one of them is equivalent to three of our horses in strength. We can put one to each cart and then move much faster as a unit. It cuts down on travel time. And labor back home, of course.”

Peter eyed the large pointed snouts full of teeth. “Don’t they try to eat your horses?”

“Nah. We raise them with adult horses. Teaches them real quick to be respectful or else they get trampled.”

“The books don’t give detailed descriptions… I thought dragons were green.”

“So do most Brals. It’s weird.” Wade shook his head, unable to understand how that myth had even started. Most dragons were dirt or sand colored, with a few exceptions. Being that karusson were mixed breeds, they tended to have randomized color patterns. They were some combination of dark and light browns with swirls of white in their wings.

Men came around to clean up after the meal and bury the fire. Wade stood up and stretched. After a moment, Peter stood as well, brushing dirt off his comically loose pants. The silver strands woven into the belt/sash/veil glinted in the early morning light. Peter looked around as everyone started heading to their places.

“I’ve only ever read about the dragons used for battle.” Peter’s voice had a tinge of excitement to it, though he was trying his best to sound casual.

“We have some with us. We needed them for the war, after all.” Wade grinned. “They’re gonna take flight soon. We use them to scout while we’re traveling. You want to watch?”

Peter’s eyes rounded and his face took on a glow Wade had yet to see since they’d met. It was endearing and Wade found himself very interested in doing whatever it took to see that kind of face more often. Everyone knew Wade was a sap, but he was unsure how well Peter would take that once he found out.

“C’mon.” Wade jerked his head and led the way. For once, he wasn’t worried about Peter running off. They headed down to the actual road where a few carts were already set up and locked into place. Large and sturdy boards had been set up against the carts, creating a kind of springboard. Peter eyed them with open curiosity.

“Getting airborne from flat ground takes a lot of energy. Usually, they have more structures to work with. A dragon would rather climb up high and do a gliding takeoff rather than start from the ground.”

Wade could practically see Peter absorbing the information like a sponge. It was always fun to see how fascinated foreigners were when it came to dragons. There were a lot of strange myths about them, as Wade had discovered from other soldiers on the battlefield. Wade might be guilty for perpetuating a few of them and causing a few other more ludicrous ones.

Peter’s head snapped in the other direction at the first bark of noise from one of the paeyo. They produced shrill multi-toned noises in long screeches or short clips. They tended to build a limited command range among their personal clans. Wade was adept enough to pick up on most of it. When they planned to fly, they would make a noise akin to excited barking.

Well, more like if a bird of prey could bark. Like a barking hawk. That happened to be three times bigger than a horse. And the noise was a little more throaty. Wade tilted his head and hummed as he tried to find a more accurate comparison, but none came to mind.

The riders climbed atop their dragons and secured themselves into place. They took up all the space from the neck to base of the tail. Dragon riding required laying down rather than sitting as if on a horse. The long tails of the paeyo whipped around in impatience. Unlike the karusson, paeyo had four sturdy legs with long and dexterous claws at the end of each. Their necks were thick and chorded with muscle, leading to a more blunt ended snout.

The most notable feature on a paeyo were the scales along their backs. Like most dragons, they had thick leathery hides, but along their backs were scales the size of a hand that fit together like shingles on a rooftop. They grew naturally and when domesticated were ground smooth to facilitate riding. They acted as armor against attacks. They were also of mixed color, with a sandy underbelly and a reddish brown shade along the rest of their bodies, the large scales taking on a tan hue.

A shrill whistle cut through the air in staccato beats. The two paeyo in position opened their wings and it took up all the space from one end of the road to the other. The first rider called the command and the dragon took off at a gallop, aiming for the cart and picking up speed. Halfway there the other dragon started its run as well.

The first dragon hit the cart, and squatted low, pushing hard with its back legs to launch itself into the sky. The wings beat hard as it gained altitude. A few seconds later, the next dragon launched into the air as well. The carts swayed and rattled under the force, but they held firm. Everything made in Kocrax had to be made as durable as possible thanks to dragons.

Wade looked over at Peter and couldn’t help the fond smile that spread across his face. Peter was gaping up at the sky, his expression a mixture of wonder, shock, and joy. The dragons in the air bellowed their pleasure once they were at a height high enough to glide with minimal wing effort. The karusson on the ground shouted a low toned response. Peter jumped a little at the noise, but then grinned, full teeth and face glowing as if he’d seen something truly monumental.

It was a face Wade would give a lot to be able to see again and again.

Indulging Peter, they stayed to watch the rest of the dragons take off. There were only eight that ended up airborne. Eleven others were grounded due to injuries and traveled around the caravan in a position depending on the severity of them. The more injured stayed on the inside, and the others stayed near the edge for security. One of them rode on a cart along with her attentive rider. Wade wasn’t sure if she’d even pull through, but he was unable to deny the hope in her rider’s eyes, so they had loaded her onto a cart and did what they could to get her to eat.

Once everyone was in position, Wade mounted his horse and helped drag Peter up as well. The good humor on Peter’s face dissolved once he realized he’d have to ride with Wade’s arms around him once more. Hopefully, with a little more exposure, Peter would stop being so averse to Wade’s presence.

One of the other riders threw back his head and began to sing once they all started moving. Many joined in, including Wade, to sing a few traveling tunes as they slowly picked up speed. Peter stayed quiet against Wade’s chest, not even attempting to join in on the repetitive chorus. Wade resigned himself to a stubbornly silent riding companion on their long trip home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So people back in the day who lived in dry and/or desert areas tended to bathe with oil (since water isn’t as readily available) and they bathe regularly, making them cleaner than most “richer” countries of the day, who would bathe maybe every 3 months and before their own wedding. I would link to information on that, but I live in a first world country and all info is contained in forum posts were people are like “I guess desert people are just dirty?” and then someone rage typing “FFS! _OIL_! THESE PEOPLE ARE _CLEAN_!”
> 
> Oil is typically used with a bit of sand and a rag to scrub the skin clean and used about once a week. Wade uses oil more often due to his scars and without the exfoliation factor unless he’s super dirty.
> 
> All of this info is subtly referenced in the fic, but assumes that one has a knowledge of using oil as a replacement for bathing and that scars tend to easily dry out as they heal. Since not everybody is coming into this fic with that knowledge, I thought I’d make an author note for it.
> 
> You, a horse lover: Wade didn’t brush down his horse!  
> Me: Wade never brushes down his own horse and abuses his power as chief to make others do it for him. And yes, I’m aware of the effect that would have on the relationship between horse and rider. More on that next chapter.
> 
> Also, I dunno how to explain biology while in the minds of people that don’t know biology because of the era, soooo… The armored scales on the paeyo dragons are essentially the same as a horse’s hooves (really thick, hard nails). They grow naturally and are worn down in the wild by various factors, but have to be maintained while in captivity (just like horses!).


	3. An Unexpected Friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Information key:**  
>  Floa Bral: _Peter’s home country, known for its prosperous lands._  
>  Brals: _Citizens of Floa Bral_  
>  Bralish: _The language of Floa Bral_  
>  Droana: _Capital of Floa Bral_
> 
> Kocrax: _Wade’s home country, known for being the only nation with dragons._  
>  Craxians: _Citizens of Kocrax._  
>  Craxan: _The language of Kocrax (excluding dialects)._
> 
> Karusson: _Stocky, flightless dragons used for labor._  
>  Paeyo: _Dragons with naturally armored scales. Used primarily for long distance flights, battle, and protection of territory._

The landscape of Floa Bral tended to be monotonous. Peter had seen it many a time during his horseback riding lessons and weapons training. All of the land surrounding the capital, Droana, was comprised of softly rolling hills with fields of wildflowers, grasslands, and the occasional smattering of trees. The only thing that broke up the scenery was when farmland would come in and out of view.

The group traveled on the King’s Road which was large and well maintained. The King’s Road did not lead to any particular city; it stretched between them. Cities, towns, and villages had to create and maintain their own roads that would connect to the larger and well traveled one. The big road led from the borders of allied nations to the capital itself, with no other stops in between.

Traveling along such a road reminded Peter that if he turned in the right direction and walked, he would eventually end up in Droana once more. It had been a home to him for most of his life. It was comforting in its familiarity, even if his life there had been far from perfect. He gazed at the vibrant greens of the landscape around him and wondered how it would change as they traveled further along.

Kocrax had formed a contract for the war, but that was been recent and they still weren’t considered allies. This meant eventually they would run out of road and be traveling over bare land or small trade roads in order to make it to the border. Passing into a new territory would mean something different to see, at least. Still, that was a long time in coming.

Peter shifted around on the horse. He was accustomed to riding, but usually on a horse that more fit his size. The Craxian people didn’t use the sturdy and snug saddles Peter was used to. What was under him was little more than a secured quilt. Still, he was grateful for it. There would have been no way to ride double and keep his balance otherwise.

Wade’s arms were wrapped around Peter to keep him steady. Previously, Wade had done that as a way to keep Peter from running. Currently, it seemed more for the goal of keeping him balanced. They were pressed closed together, swaying in time to the trot of the giant horse. It was uncomfortable as much as it was lulling.

Though Peter’s legs tensed with the need to keep his grip, his fatigue didn’t allow him to maintain that. It was at that point that he noticed how Wade had subtly positioned them in such a way that he was carrying Peter’s body through the movements. Peter didn’t need to put any effort into staying on the horse at all. Peter wondered how Wade had become such an accomplished rider. Craxians weren’t known for their horsemanship.

Well, to be fair, Craxians weren’t known for much else other than dragons and their barbaric ways. Perhaps dragon riding required a much higher level of skill, thus affording Wade more ability on horseback. Peter’s thoughts tailed languidly around his head as he contemplated that. His body relaxed further, able to trust more in Wade’s ability to keep them both atop the horse. His eyes drooped…

A shrill whistle jerked Peter awake. He blinked in confusion as he looked around, noticing that the sun was setting in the distance. One of Wade’s arms was wrapped around Peter from shoulder to waist, keeping them pressed tightly together. Peter’s head had been nuzzled into the crook of Wade’s neck.

Peter pushed at the arm around him in order to sit up and it moved easily. Peter pressed his hands against the horse as he curled forward and tried to shake off the last cobwebs of sleep. He must have been asleep for a few hours. He remembered being awake as noon passed, but nothing after that.

“I’m sorry,” Peter mumbled.

“It’s fine. We all need a nap sometimes.”

“You should have woken me up.”

“Nah. You’re so cute and not angry when you’re sleeping.”

Peter frowned at that but bit back any kind of retort. That would be like playing into Wade’s hands. Instead, he focused on the path in front of them as everyone moved off the road and over to the designated spot to set up camp. The area seemed to be well cleared already and the men were efficient at their jobs. Everyone had a task and they went about it in a manner that spoke of instinctual habit.

After a full day of riding on the gigantic horse, Peter’s dismount was worse than it had been the day before. He all but faceplanted into the dirt and those around him laughed uproariously at him. Wade had to help Peter stand back up on wobbly legs.

“Not used to riding?” Wade asked with a smirk.

“I am adept at riding a _horse_ , not a bear in disguise.”

Wade seemed to find that hilarious. He pulled on the reins and brought the horse around to face Peter. “I’ve had her for some time now. Her name’s Bea. You two should formally meet if you’re going to be riding together.”

Peter wanted to argue that he could just be given his own horse, but knew what the answer to that would be. Instead, he proved his ability with horses by keeping in Bea‘s line of sight and holding out a hand for her to scent. Her normally passive attitude perked immediately as she huffed along Peter’s skin.

“Here.” Wade snagged a bag off of a passing cart and had Bea’s attention in an instant. “Some of the other soldiers gave us these. She likes them.”

Peter took the offered treat and held it out to Bea. He’d fed them to horses many a time in the royal stables. They were clumps of leftover hay mixed with bits of raisins and molasses to form a ball. Bea wasted no time in immediately taking the treat, her tongue pressing it around her mouth with relish. It made Peter laugh.

Bea butted her head against Peter and snuffled at his hands. Wade handed over a few more, but despite Wade holding the bag, she only took them from Peter. It was a fairly obvious snub.

“What did you do to upset her?” Peter asked as he ran a firm hand down her nose.

“Oh, she’s always mad at me.” Wade shrugged. “I spend more time with my dragon than her. She’s jealous.”

“You have a dragon?”

“Of course I have a dragon! I’m the chief. What kind of chief doesn’t have a dragon?”

“Is it one of the injured ones?” Peter asked. He had yet to see Wade walk up to any of the dragons despite the fact that the other riders seemed to hover near theirs regularly.

“No, I sent her home ahead of me. She hates being away from her territory for very long. It makes her grumpy.”

“You just…” Peter gaped, trying to find the words through his shock. “You allowed a battle trained dragon to fly without supervision over Floa Bral?”

Wade rolled his eyes. “She’s not gonna waste her time burning villages. Don’t worry about it.”

“What about food?” Peter threw his hands in the air. “Livestock would be easy to pick off!”

Wade considered that for a few seconds before he shrugged. “Maybe. Not my problem.”

“It’s a problem for the farmers struggling to have enough to last another harsh winter!” The war had taken a heavy toll over the years. It meant having to scrounge everything possible during the summer.

“I find it funny how all Brals seem to think they’re in dire straits.” Wade’s tone said he didn’t find it humorous at all. Peter supposed that comparably to their savage nation, everything in Floa Bral looked prosperous, but Peter well knew that wasn’t the case.

“You’re intolerable!” Peter hissed.

“Speak for yourself.” Wade stuck his nose in the air and went to lead Bea away, but she took the lead line in her teeth and yanked, ripping the line from Wade’s grip and almost toppling him onto his ass. “You ungrateful little…”

Bea huffed at him and then moved her body behind Peter. She dropped her head over his shoulder to hug him. Peter smirked and brought his hands up to pet her nose, praising her behavior.

“Aw, are you not used to horses?” Peter mocked. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of her for you.”

Peter and Bea both stuck their noses in the air and walked off to the others who were getting brushed down after the long day’s ride. Wade spluttered indignantly at them, but to Peter’s surprise, he didn’t even attempt to stop them. Peter found Wade’s behavior to often be… unsettlingly contradictory.

It was frustrating because Peter couldn’t seem to get a solid read on the man. None of Wade’s promises were worth anything if Peter couldn’t tell whether the man would follow through. Everything about his situation left him feeling terrified and unsafe. Wade’s questionable morality didn’t help that at all.

Bea walked them over to where the other horses were gathering. She made her way over to a cart filled with things dedicated to their case. She nabbed a brush and pressed it into Peter’s hands before turning back and nosing at a large unopened bag. Everyone around her seemed unsurprised at her antics.

One of the men said something to her and then started setting up a feed bag. Peter decided he may as well take off the quilt and start brushing. When Bea was chowing down on food and having the sweat sweeped off of her by long smooth glides of the stiff bristles, she seemed to calm back down into the passive and uncaring horse Peter had previously known her as.

Perhaps that was just how she looked in her calmer emotions. Some horses were very animated and excited, but Bea seemed to be the exact opposite. Peter could appreciate such a calm nature, given how abrasive her owner was. It was a nice change of pace.

Someone walked up to Peter and slapped him on the back hard enough to make him stumble. Bea shook her head and huffed at the person. Peter turned to see a large grinning man. The person said something, but Peter didn’t catch it.

“I’m sorry… Can you say that slower?” Peter attempted in Craxan.

The man blinked and then burst out laughing. Peter scowled, not appreciating the fact that his struggle with the language was such a source of hilarity. The man didn’t seem at all bothered by Peter’s anger. Maintaining his grin, he patted his chest for emphasis and said his name, “[Sergei](http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Sergei_Kravinoff_\(Earth-616\)).”

Reluctantly, Peter placed a hand on his own chest. “Peter.”

“Pee-tar!” Sergei boomed in response and clapped Peter on the shoulder hard enough to jar his bones.

“ _Peter_ ,” he corrected, desperately wanting to make sure Sergei didn’t go around telling everyone that the new guy’s name was Pee-tar.

Sergei just laughed and wrapped an arm around Peter’s shoulder, bodily dragging Peter over to where a group of horses were tethered around the large cart pulling dragons. (Karusson? Yes, that was it, karusson.) Whenever one of the large dragons would get into a fight with another and start snapping, one of the horses would back up to them and kick. The dragon would shriek in pain and stumble away, dropping its head and hissing, but not daring to attack. All of the horses seemed confident in their ability to control the dragons that looked fully capable of eating them.

The problem was, the circle of horses was the only thing keeping the dragons contained. They had no muzzles, harnesses, or lead lines. Nothing was securing them to a fixed point. They were simply allowed to roam free. Peter didn’t like that at _all._ What happened when one of them chose to make a run for it and fight their way to freedom?

Sergei started talking but it was too fast for Peter to keep up with. However, Sergei compensated by acting out his words. He pointed to the dragons and bared his teeth, snapping them a few times. Then he formed his hand into a claw and slashed the fingers into Peter’s gut, not bothering to pull the punch. Peter doubled over some as the air huffed out of him. He would have been angry had he not been so terrified of Sergei’s implications.

A hand came out of nowhere, grabbed Sergei by the hair, and pulled him off of Peter. Sergei was shouting angry words, but they were abruptly cut off when a fist connected with his stomach. He dropped hard. Wade stood over the man with a look that was terrifying. He seemed sadistically happy to have been given an opportunity to beat someone.

Wade’s leg shot out and connected with Sergei a few times before the man rolled out of the way and was on his feet, breathing heavily and bent at an odd angle, but ready to fight. They both looked at each other in a way that showed they were excited for the violence that was about to come. Peter took a few steps back, unsure if he should be more afraid of the untethered dragons or the people who tamed them.

A man with a long wooden [bo staff](http://www.bearmartialarts.com/products/bo_staff__6ft__red_oak_8280.jpg) walked up and with quick movements, landed a hard hit to the backs of both men’s knees. They dropped to the dirt, unbalanced and in pain. Immediately, they turned and started yelling, as if they were allies in an instant against the new attacker. The man gave them a disapproving frown, like a father to unruly kids. He said something low and then walked over to Peter.

“[Adrian](http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Adrian_Toomes_\(Earth-616\)),” he said, tapping his chest before jerking his head at the cookfire a few yards away. “Come. Eat.” He said it in slow and accented Bralish.

Deciding that he was the person to follow and the other two were not people that Peter wanted to be around, he trailed after without debate. Adrian sat Peter down and made sure he was given the first helping of food. It was by and far a much better meal than what Peter had eaten previously. It was a hearty stew filled with chunks of meat, corn, tomatoes, and onion. Peter all but inhaled it, happy for a flavorful meal for the first time in two days.

Men came over to the fire at random, taking a bowl of food and gathering in groups, most all of them facing the fire. They seemed to all get along fairly well until someone would start shouting and throw a punch. However, such behavior was usually followed by laughter and lots of back slapping. Soldiers were certainly a different breed…

Peter had felt like an outcast at the palace, but it was nothing compared to his current situation. He couldn’t relate to the rough actions of the Craxians at all. Peter’s upbringing left him woefully unprepared for how to deal with such common folk. He was already desperately missing the scholarly discussions he often had with the other academics that escaped the pressures of court for the solace of the vast royal library.

Ah, the library. Peter missed the books the most.

Wade’s voice cut through the sounds of everyone chatting and moving around. Peter looked over to see Wade and Sergei laughing and pushing at each other companionably. It was both baffling and unsettling. Wade’s eyes fell on Peter and then Peter’s empty bowl. He walked over and snatched it from Peter’s hands.

“Oi!” Peter had intended to swipe the bowl clean.

Wade walked over to the pot of food and refilled the bowl and grabbed another to fill as well. He walked over and handed Peter’s bowl back to him. “You’re skinny.”

Peter frowned. He had wanted another serving, but he irrationally wanted to refuse just because Wade was pushing the issue. Being that he was full frustration, a state that was becoming common around Wade, Peter blurted out the first thing on his mind. “Why did you fight Sergei?”

“He was being an prick.” Wade shrugged as if that was all the reason anyone needed.

“Aren’t you the chief? Shouldn’t you _not_ be going around picking fights?”

Wade adopted a face akin to a self righteous toddler. “I can’t just have them walk all over me! He was flirting with my wife.”

“Flirting?!” Peter ran through the scenario in his head once more and flirting did not happen. “He was telling me how the damn free roaming dragons would eat me!”

Wade waved his hand in the air as if batting away Peter’s concerns. “They’re not going to eat anything. Sergei was just trying to scare you so he could look brave later. He grapples with them.”

Peter could form no words to that. What kind of insane person would _grapple_ with a dragon of that size and stature? Granted, they may not have been as big as the ones that flew, but they were full of muscle and teeth… But that brought up another question.

“Where are the other dragons?”

Lifting his eyes to the trees, Wade pointed up at one as he chewed. Peter followed the finger and squinted into the quickly fading light. That was when he finally noticed a tail dangling from one of the branches. Were all of them up in the trees?

“A group will fly ahead to a good campsite and clear it out before the rest of the troops arrive. Paeyo need a lot to eat after flying most of the day. They’ll hunt what they can once the job is done, then climb into the trees to sleep the evening and night away. Some of riders will climb up there with them.”

“Isn’t it dangerous to sleep with dragons?”

“It’s dangerous to curl up with a dog if it doesn’t know you. It all depends on temperament and the level of trust built with the rider.”

“Dragons are not comparable to dogs.”

“That really depends on the dragon.” Wade laughed to himself.

Peter focused on his food for a while, considering the information he was learning. There were a lot of details that the books he’d read had missed out on. There was bound to be things that had changed since it was written, as well. The scholar who had lived in Kocrax and written the book that Peter relied on had died a good six generations back. Things change after so many generations have passed.

The noise level around the fire increased as more and more people came to get their meal. Many of the men sat and talked long after they were finished eating. They laughed, played games, or all out brawled with each other. None of it seemed to shift the overall tired but hopeful mood of a group of soldiers finally heading home.

One of the men stood up and started singing a song as loud as his lungs would let him. He animatedly pranced around the fire as he sang, encouraging others to join in until there were a good ten other men happily involved in a song Peter had never heard the tune of before. It was a livelier song than the ones they sang on the road.

“I can’t catch what the song says at all,” Peter said, mostly to himself after the chorus rolled by a third time. The strange accent of the lead singer was making it impossible to translate.

Wade perked up immediately. “Oh! Let me see if I can translate and make it fit!” His face screwed up in effort and his head bobbed with the tune as he muttered to himself. Peter had to bite back a smile. He didn’t want anyone to think he was amused by Wade’s antics…

“Oh! I got it!” Wade practically bounced with excitement as he waited for the chorus to roll back around, then he sang enthusiastically:

_“A mouth’s a holey place indeed_

_I’d love if it would suck_

_And when my dick can slap my rear_

_Might finally slake my lust!”_

Peter’s face lit up pink. He knew soldiers sang some fairly depraved tavern songs, but he’d never been in the midst of one so blatant. Raised as a nobleman, Peter had to adhere to a certain amount of decorum. Singing about sexual yearnings was not something that was approved of.

Wade didn’t seem to notice Peter’s embarrassment and just kept singing along to the song in Craxan, but would always switch to Bralish at the chorus. No matter how many times Wade elbowed Peter, he refused to join in. Instead he took a swig of the mead being passed around and did his best to ignore Wade.

Night had truly fallen at some point and Peter had missed it, hovering in the warmth of the cookfire as he was. Beyond the pool of firelight, the half moon barely lit the darkness. Likely, that was why nobody noticed the movement there. Nor did Peter, not until he looked up to see the long snout half opened to show glinting teeth sneaking in between two of the Craxians on the other side of the fire.

Peter’s body went rigid with fear and he couldn’t breathe. The karusson were supposed to be gathered with the horses. Obviously, they were no longer. Peter tried to open his mouth on a warning, but nothing came out. Before the creature could turn its head to snap at the arm of the man next to it, a long stick of wood came crashing down onto its snout.

The karusson shrieked in pain, drawing the attention of everyone gathered just in time to see the bo staff whirl to punch up against the bottom of the dragon’s chin. The beast stumbled back, small front arms brushing at its face, eyes squinted closed as it huffed. To Peter’s shock, many Craxians burst out laughing.

Adrien shouted at the dragon as he used his staff to poke it with force and move the dragon further backwards. Peter couldn’t see it well, but he could hear the thwack of the wood meeting thick hide as the dragon was herded back towards the others. Wade snorted with amusement.

“That one’s going to get too fat to pull a cart one day!” Wade said, inviting Peter to share in the joke. Peter just looked at Wade like every Craxian on the planet was insane.

“You said they wouldn’t eat anything!” Peter accused, voice over loud with his anxiety.

“He was just after the stew. Calm down.” Wade rolled his eyes with a look that said he clearly believed Peter to be over reacting.

“Calm down?! If it’s hungry, it could eat any one of us!”

“They’re well fed, we just have a couple of gluttons.”

“What happens when we’re sleeping?” Peter’s voice strained with panic, his mind offering a variety of scenarios of him being consumed in his sleep.

“We have a night watch. Besides, the horses keep an eye on the dragons.”

“Obviously not! And you should not be leaving such important tasks to another _animal_!”

Wade sighed and dropped his face into his hand. “You’re not gonna drop this, are you?”

“Why are you not concerned for your safety? Or the safety of your men? Or _me_?”

“Look. I’m obviously a better meal than you are.” Wade looked up and waved his hand at Peter. “They’ll eat me first and you can run off. You’d like that, right? It’d leave you a widow.”

Peter fumed, his face heating up in his anger. At least it washed away most of his anxiety. “Is everything a joke to you?”

“Do you have to assume that I’m incompetent at everything?” Wade snapped in return.

“Well perhaps if you’d act like an _decent_ leader for once, I wouldn’t have to assume—” Peter didn’t get to finish before one of Wade’s large hands was wrapped around his throat. He sucked in a breath, fear settling heavy in his chest. Wade’s fingers twitched but they did not squeeze… yet.

“Do not speak of what you don’t understand,” Wade growled in a deadly tone. “Even with a king that imposes idiotic rules and is all too happy to sell you off, you know nothing of poor leadership.”

Peter took a steadying breath and forced his face to set into a cold gaze that hid his fear. “Let. Go. Of. Me.”

Wade yanked Peter forward by the neck, leaving their faces almost touching. “According to your little marriage document, _I don’t have to._ Until the bonding ceremony is done, you will do as I say.”

Wade’s other hand picked up the end of the veil, now dusty from the road. The flickering light of the fire made the shiny silver threads woven into the fabric dance. Wade held it between them, the gauzy fabric brushing both of their chins.

“I am not the one that did this to you. You are here because your country is greedy and I must do whatever it takes to protect my people.” Wade let Peter go and stood up, stretching his limbs and giving Peter a moment to recover. “Come.”

Wade didn’t look at Peter and didn’t repeat the order. Those around them were pointedly not watching the exchange, though a few further away were gawking at them. Peter grit his teeth and tried to remind himself that he was used to being a spectacle and having no control over his life. Reluctantly, he stood up as well.

“The benefit of this union between us is that you are now one of my people as well.” Wade looked over and made eye contact. His face had smoothed back to something calm with a hint of sincerity peeking through his blue eyes. “That means I will protect you.”

Peter didn’t respond and he had no idea what to say even if he wanted to speak. Wade turned and led the way towards the tents. Peter followed. Between Wade’s words tumbling through his head and the fear of a hungry roaming karusson, Peter struggled to manage any rest at all that night, yet again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So riding a horse bareback is almost like riding a really fat bike. It’s more about just maintaining balance as it shifts around below you and holding on with your thighs. For that reason, a trot on bareback is easier than just walking, whereas the opposite is usually true in a saddle. Back in this era, saddles were form fitting and usually high on the back and front. This does not lend well to pair riding. But also, such saddles would be something common to find in Peter’s nation and not Wade’s. Kocrax being a more naturalist nation would all learn to prefer bareback riding, especially since dragons do not come with saddles.
> 
> Kocrax horses (and dragons barring some modifications I'll get into later) are usually ridden with only stirrups (to put your feet in) and reins (to hold and guide where it’s attached to the head of the animal). Some Craxians are known to ride without anything at all as a bonding technique, but this can be dangerous if you’re thrown or the animal is spooked (or angry/annoyed with the rider).
> 
> Also fun to note that longterm bareback riding on any creature of that sort will require a shit ton of leg strength. Thus Craxians have thunder thighs, the lot of them. XD
> 
> I had TWO people draw me dragons recently! I love you guuuuys!  
> First is K_Vader with [this](https://kari-vader.tumblr.com/post/169089332563/inspired-by-untethered-by-my-love-thatvixenchick) lovely baby!  
> And then Spazkittyx3 with a beautiful [wyvern](https://spazkittyx3.tumblr.com/post/169149908648/wyvern-for-vixens-fic-unthethered)~ <3


	4. Doing What’s Best

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because travel in large groups on horseback can take 3-6 months (as travel time is 15-30 miles per day), getting _to_ Kocrax is going to take a while. I can’t time skip because that would miss out on a looot of character development. lol So it will take some time before we get to explore Wade’s nation. In the meantime, we’ll be focusing on Peter and Wade’s “enemies to friends” trope. hehe

Once again, Peter had fallen asleep on the horse and Wade had compensated for it. Peter couldn’t understand why Wade put up with it. It wasn’t like he was proud of falling asleep in the first place. He didn’t want to, no matter how amiable Bea was. But Wade just brushed it off as if it was fine.

Peter’s obvious lack of sleep at night and the awkward gate he adopted from riding a horse his body wasn’t accustomed to backfired in a way he should have expected. Some of the men started winking and nudging at Peter while making remarks in a tone that was obviously lewd. Everyone had an idea of what kept Peter up all night and his body so sore and exhausted. His lack of grip on the Craxan language didn’t allow him to set the record straight.

Not that Wade was any help. He seemed more than happy to let everyone think he was availing himself of Peter’s body all night long. Though Peter could only catch a few words, Wade’s extremely inappropriate movements as he spoke allowed Peter to know without a doubt what Wade was saying.

Peter was pretty sure it wasn’t healthy to be as fumingly angry as he had been the past few days and likely would continue to be. His attitude did not go unnoticed, though it did seem to be misinterpreted. No less than three people tried to offer Peter small vials of oil and ointment with a lot of pointing at their butts to get the instructions across. They didn’t let Peter refuse.

When Peter complained about it that night in the tent, Wade wouldn’t stop laughing. His only complaint was that people assumed he wouldn’t be a careful lover.

“Why are you encouraging them?” Peter snapped.

“Why not?” Wade’s good humor clouded over for a moment. “Nobody likes the idea of a forced and loveless union. It makes them happy to believe that we’re already getting along so well.”

“You mean it looks good on you.”

“And you,” Wade said as he pulled off his clothing. “You’re married to the chief. A wife that hates the people he’s supposed to preside over and also hates the leader of said people isn’t going to be well loved.”

“Why would I be allowed preside over anything?” Peter snapped, though mostly to distract himself from how solid Wade’s reasoning was. Peter didn’t need to be surrounded by enemies in a foreign land. Pretending to be Wade’s hot and cold lover was far less scary than the alternative.

“I told you before I was prepared to have a useless wife, but you seemed determined to not be useless.”

“I have no desire to be a mere trophy you keep locked away in your bedchamber.”

“My point exactly.” Wade threw his clothes into the haphazard pile he usually did before walking over to his satchel. “If you wish to _do_ something, I have plenty of options. There is always work to be done.”

Peter frowned to himself and stayed quiet. He’d never expected to be given a job considering their arrangement. More than that, Wade had offered to allow Peter to choose the one he wanted. Peter wasn’t sure when the last time was that he’d chosen a path in life. He told himself it was but a small consolation given the circumstances, but it did little to squash the flutter of interest in him.

Wade pulled out his bottle of oil and started rubbing himself down. Apparently, Peter and most of the others only needed to do so once a week. Those with heavy scarring needed it more often, Wade in particular. Though he was aiming to oil only the places with scars, it still ended up covering most of him, there were just so many.

Wade attempted to reach behind him to his neck and shoulder blades, but his hand trembled and his arm refused to move any further. He grunted with effort and tried with his other arm with only a bit more success. Peter huffed with annoyance.

“Your arm wouldn’t be in that condition had you woken me up instead of trying to steady me on the horse.”

“You’re not going to make this trip on no sleep!” Wade glared over his shoulder, but his voice was more pout than anger. “I can’t just ignore the fact that you’re too terrified to sleep at night.”

“I’m not terrified!” Peter’s voice was indignant, though it did little to cover the lie.

“Is that so? Then are you just staying up all night thinking of ways to murder me?”

“Precisely.”

Wade snorted and then attempted to bend himself at an angle in order to reach the spot his fingers were just shy off. He cursed in both languages and looked ready to hurt himself in order to accomplish his goal. Peter sighed and walked over, slapping Wade’s hands out of the way and grabbing the bottle of oil.

“What are you doing?” Wade’s eyes were wide as he watched Peter.

“You were the one who said this was tradition in a marriage. Hold still.”

Peter ran his oiled fingers along Wade’s skin, a barely there touch at first before slowly pressing harder. The scars had a strange texture and Peter’s couldn’t help running his thumb over the line between healthy and scarred skin, feeling the differences and the raised bumps that the healing had caused. Wade was unusually quiet throughout the process, a small shiver going down his spine.

The reaction made Peter’s fingers pause, unsure how he felt about Wade seeming to enjoy the touch. Well, maybe he was overthinking it. After all, Wade had massaged Peter previously and it had felt nice, nothing more to it. All the talk of their supposed intimate relationship had Peter on edge.

When Peter was finished applying the oil to the area he needed to, he moved over to Wade’s shoulder and began digging his knuckles into flesh. Wade’s eye drooped closed and he took a deep breath. Peter tried to stay focused on his hands. He was just repaying Wade for the time he’d done the same to Peter. That was all. Besides, Wade wouldn’t be able to ride for much longer if the muscles didn’t release.

Wade made a noise of half pain and half pleasure deep in his throat when Peter’s thumb ran over a knot of muscle. He stayed still, head dropping forward as Peter worked. Standing at Wade’s side as he was, Peter was very aware of Wade’s nudity. Some perverse curiosity made him want to take a glimpse to see how much Wade was enjoying Peter’s touch, but he refused to look.

Peter didn’t want to know if Wade was aroused by his touch. Strangely, Peter also didn’t want to know if Wade was not. He wasn’t sure what that meant, if anything, and thinking too much on it would only cause the tension between them to rise. So Peter shoved it from his mind and pretended that it didn’t matter.

Feeling the muscles finally release, Peter let his fingers fall away from Wade’s skin. “There. How’s that?”

Wade flexed his hand and rolled his shoulder. “The best I’ve felt in years.”

“Sure.” Peter rolled his eyes and walked away in order to get undressed himself. “You could just give me a horse or let me ride on one of the carts.”

“Absolutely not.”

“I’m not going to run off.”

“Won’t you?”

“And where would I go?” Peter threw his shirt to the ground with a little more force than necessary. “How would I even get there? You have all my money and items, what little there are of them.”

“Says the man who looks willing to be a beggar rather than be married to me.”

“What do you expect of me?” Peter whirled around to glare, his anger pouring through him again in an instant. “Would you not also be upset in my position?”

“I would.” Wade’s voice was calm and unargumentative as he finished attending to his scars and put away the bottle of oil.

“What…” Peter hadn’t expected that answer.

“Attached to someone I don’t know, unable to make my own choices, forced to live in a country I know nothing about, stuck with traditions I don’t believe in, trapped in a union with someone I don’t love…” Wade turned around to look at Peter and shrugged. “I’d be miserable.”

Peter struggled to form a coherent word and failed, his mind at a full stop.

“ _And_ I would try to run at any given opportunity, be damned the consequences. I’m not mad that you want to run, but I also can’t let you.”

“Why?” Peter finally blurted. “Why did you want a Bral wife in the first place if you disagree with all of this?”

Wade crossed his arms and took a deep breath. “Let’s pretend that Floa Bral had a bad rainy season that rotted most of the crops, but left you with an overabundance of berries. A man cannot live on berries alone, and the people need to eat. How would you compensate?”

Peter blinked, thrown by the odd change of direction their conversation had taken. He shook his head and thought through Wade’s question. “Berries are valuable in some countries with environments too harsh to grow them. We could sell our abundance to them for a high price and them purchase necessities from one of the drier countries that would have benefited from the abundance of rain. The surplus would make purchasing from them cheaper and they’d be willing to sell in order to make a profit for the next year.”

“Next question, what allies does Kocrax have to trade with?”

“None… Kocrax is an insulated country…”

“So if we were to have the same scenario, what would we do?”

They knew the answer to that. There wouldn’t be much Kocrax _could_ do in such a situation. Famine would be rampant… “The goods from Kocrax are rare. You could trade during that time for a small fortune and use it to purchase other goods…”

“In an ideal scenario, yes. However, Craxians are not welcome at the large trading cities. They require certain approved documents to be able to secure a spot in the market. As much as Kocrax has always wished to stay within our borders, the other countries wish to keep us cut off.”

“But why? If you are willing to trade peacefully—”

“Because of dragons. What makes us valuable also makes us dangerous. When the wolves grow too large in number and the rabbits cannot reproduce fast enough, what happens?”

“The wolves starve and die out… so that the rabbits may repopulate…” Peter whispered, the unwanted realization of Kocrax’s plight dawning on him.

“I have watched one too many mothers starve themselves into an early grave in order to feed their children. I will do what it takes to ensure that does not happen again.” Wade ran an anxious hand over his head and looked away, his eye distant, as if remembering the tragedy that he’d seen. “A political marriage means we have rights. It means we have more options during those times that we desperately need them.”

Which meant that Wade would do anything to make sure his marriage to Peter stayed valid. It also made sense why King Jameson had been so reluctant to follow through on the contract. He wanted the option to keep Kocrax as an ally at arm’s length, but also still hold the control that Floa Bral and other wealthy nations have always had over Kocrax. Had he been able to spare it, he likely would have paid Wade the agreed upon amount in goods. The next best plan was a wife that could bear no children. Kocrax’s right to trade cities would be lost in a single generation.

Peter looked up when he felt Wade’s presence over him. Two large hands cupped Peter’s face in a grip so gentle it inexplicably made Peter nervous. The implications of their marriage and why Wade had been so adamant at the palace swirled through Peter’s mind so strongly that he had no idea what to say.

“This is why you are safe,” Wade said, voice soft and eyes serious. “I will not let any harm come to you. I will not let you out of my sight. I will do whatever I can to make this transition as easy as possible. You are the most valuable thing Kocrax has obtained in generations.”

Valuable. When was the last time Peter had ever been seen as valuable? His stomach quivered, unable to fully process how conflicted that left him. He was still unhappy and still at the mercy of a people he didn’t understand. Yet at the same time, the lives of hundreds of thousands of people now rested upon his shoulders. It wasn’t fair. It was too much. In a way, it stripped him of even more control over his life.

Peter wrapped shaky hands around Wade’s wrists and pulled them away. “I will not run. I understand your plight and I am not so cruel as to watch others suffer for my own self…” Peter closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm the tremor that kept trying to creep into his voice. “But this leaves me as little more than an expensive key to a doorway that you need access to, _not_ a person.”

“You’re wrong.” A small smile played on Wade’s lips when Peter looked up at him. “I know it will take time to convince you of that, but I have no interest in you as simply a key to carry around in my pocket. You are one of my people now as well, and I will do a lot to take of those that I am responsible for.”

“You’d be surprised at the amount of people who lose such convictions over the years.” Peter didn’t know why he felt the need to argue, but he couldn’t just assume that everything would turn out well. He simply didn’t have that kind of luck.

“I am well aware. I’ve seen first hand what happens to people who live under a leader that stops caring and only listens to his own council. That is not something I can easily forget.”

Peter’s eyebrows scrunched in curiosity, wondering what the history behind that statement was, but he didn’t get the chance to ask. Wade easily distracted Peter by undoing the sash to his pants and pushing him towards the stack of furs. Peter focused on stepping out of his pants without falling.

“Try to get some sleep tonight, hm?” Wade said, voice back to his usual jovial teasing.

Once more, Wade wrapped himself around Peter as they settled down into the mat. After their conversation, Peter couldn’t find it in himself to complain. So instead, he closed his eyes and told himself that he would be safe. For some unknown reason, his mind believed him, and Peter drifted off into a dreamless sleep at long last.

 

~*~

 

Peter woke to movement, his eyes cracking open in the predawn light to see Wade shuffling around the tent and getting dressed. For the first time, Peter had managed to sleep the whole night through. He looked down at himself, but all seemed to be well. Outside the tent, the world was quiet but for the scuffing sound of moving feet.

Sitting up, Peter scrubbed at his face, trying to rub away the last cobwebs of sleep. He missed being able to wash his face in the mornings. Cold water was bracing and always helped to wake him up. Such things would be a long forgotten luxury soon.

“Since you’ve been brushing Bea down every night, she’s been fighting me in the mornings. How about you prep her for the ride today after you eat?” Wade asked as he pulled on his vest. It was only two days, but Peter figured Bea always fought Wade and he was using Peter and Bea’s new friendship as an excuse to foist her off on someone else.

“Sure,” Peter mumbled and looked over at his own pile of clothes, ill fitting as they were. “Wade?”

“Hm?” Wade paused by the tent flap. He seemed far too chipper. Peter never understood morning people.

“These clothes chafe. They’re too loose.”

“Well, nobody is as small as you. Not a lot of options.” Wade shrugged.

Peter raised his eyebrows at how dense Wade seemed to be. “I have my own attire.”

It took a few seconds for that to register. “Oh! Your trunk!”

“Yes. My trunk. I have a set of riding clothes in it.”

“Smart!” Wade shook his finger at Peter with excitement. “Stay right there. It should be easy to get to with everything unloaded still.”

Peter watched Wade run out of the tent and sighed, folding his legs under him and keeping the quilt in his lap. It would be nice to have his normal clothes again. Perhaps it would help to improve his mood. Being stuck in such a ridiculously ill fitting outfit had left him feeling like a child. His obvious size difference comparably to everyone and everything around him hadn’t helped with that feeling at all.

It wasn’t long before Wade was back, carrying the trunk between him and another person. Said other person gave Peter a wink and a cheesy grin before heading back out. Peter frowned at the implication of it, but reminded himself that it was for the best. He’d just have to suck it up and allow people to believe that he was getting plowed every night.

Wade dug around a pocket attached to the inside of his vest. He produced a key and tossed it to Peter. “You can have that back.”

Having the key to his own trunk that contained every possession he’d ever struggled to acquire was a bigger relief than he expected. With everything else going on, it hadn’t been on the forefront of his mind. Regardless, it felt like a small step towards having some kind of control over his life once more.

“Ask me if you need anything out of it,” Wade said, picking up on Peter’s expression. “I can always have someone pull it out for you while setting up camp.”

“Thank you,” Peter murmured. He pushed the quilt away and made his way over to the trunk to unlock it and dig around for the items he needed. He expected Wade to leave, but the man stayed, peering into the trunk with interest.

“That’s a lot of books. No wonder the thing is heavy.”

“It’s not really that much.” Comparably to the library he’d left behind, it felt like he had barely anything at all to work with.

Peter’s clothes were tailor made to him, so they fit like a dream. Putting on his tights, breeches, and doublet felt relaxing in a way. It helped him feel normal once more and less like someone kidnapped by savages. Peter tied his boots into place and looked up to find Wade’s intense eyes on him.

“What?” Peter was instantly defensive.

Wade just shook his head, looking a little dazed. “Looks good on you…”

Not knowing how to respond to that, Peter just went back to packing. The pouch full of oils and ointments still sat by the mat. Having no idea what else to do with them, he tucked them into the corner of the trunk before shutting and locking it once more. He eyed the pile of baggy clothes still sitting off to the side.

“I guess those can go back to whoever they came from,” Peter offered.

“What about your sash?” Wade asked as he walked over and pulled it from the makeshift belt loops of the pants.

Peter stood up and eyed it warrily. “What of it?” It wasn’t like he appreciated the veil reminding him of his previous humiliation of being forced into a dress.

Wade held it up to the growing light leaking in from outside the tent. He turned it this way and that so the threads of silver sparkled along the edges of the gauze fabric. “It’s pretty.”

“Then _you_ wear it.”

“I would, but I wouldn’t stop fiddling with it.” Wade walked over and held it up to Peter’s maroon and russet riding outfit. “It matches you.”

They stared each other down. Peter did not by any means want to put it on, but Wade seemed keen on it. He had shown that he wasn’t afraid of throwing his weight around if Peter argued too much. He’d also shown a rational and compassionate side the night before. Peter wasn’t sure where exactly that left them.

When Wade’s large arms moved around Peter’s hips, he flinched. Wade stopped moving and watched Peter closely, as if he were a rabbit that was about to bolt. Annoyed at being treated as such, Peter took a deep breath and held still, allowing Wade to enter too far into Peter’s personal space.

It was, frankly, annoying that Peter’s face sat at Wade’s collarbone. He wasn’t a short man, but Craxians were unnecessarily large. Being bracketed in by large muscle bound arms did little to make Peter feel safe. The scarred fingers trailing along his low back as Wade pulled the sash around Peter’s hips felt far too intimate given the setting.

Peter kept his body rigid as Wade pulled his hands around to Peter’s naval, the veil wrapping snuggly around his waist. Peter looked down as large hands started to tie a knot at Peter’s side, the soft shimmering fabric hanging down the outside of one thigh. He looked back up at Wade’s neutral and focused face.

“Is this an order?” Peter asked.

“No,” Wade calmly replied as he tied it into place. “But it shows that you are not rejecting my people, just our current clothing options since they don’t fit. It shows that you are still my wife and are willing to be claimed by me.”

“I’m not.” Peter couldn’t stop himself from saying it even though he knew that he shouldn’t.

“I’m aware.” Wade gave a bland smile. “But that’s not something the others should know, hm?”

Peter looked down at the veil hanging from his hip. He hated to admit it, but it did go well with the outfit. At least it didn’t look like much more than a fancy sash in its current state. Peter could put up with it. In the greater scheme of things, there were worse options.

Wade’s hands slid away from the knot he’d made and snuck around to grab a handful of Peter’s ass who immediately jerked out of the way with a curse. Wade looked unrepentant as he grinned and moved out of Peter’s attack range.

“You look good in those pants.”

Peter could only scowl, and Wade was gone before a retort came to mind. With a huff, Peter left the tent as well to find some food. He still had a full day’s ride ahead of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peter's got dat booty.
> 
> So there we have it! Was Wade's reasons for marriage different than you expected? XD I've been hammering out these details for so long. lol


	5. Old Habits Die Hard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Information key:**  
>  Floa Bral: _Peter’s home country, known for its prosperous lands._  
>  Brals: _Citizens of Floa Bral_  
>  Bralish: _The language of Floa Bral_  
>  Droana: _Capital of Floa Bral_
> 
> Kocrax: _Wade’s home country, known for being the only nation with dragons._  
>  Craxians: _Citizens of Kocrax._  
>  Craxan: _The language of Kocrax (excluding dialects)._
> 
> Karusson: _Stocky, flightless dragons used for labor._  
>  Paeyo: _Dragons with naturally armored scales. Used primarily for long distance flights, battle, and protection of territory._
> 
> Gella: _Dragon dung and vegetation formed into a hard brick and used as a burning fuel source. It burns brighter, hotter, and longer than any other current useable fuel source in any known country._

Over the next two weeks, Peter got used to the routine. His body adjusted slowly and achingly to the long days of riding. He became accustomed to the process of setting up and breaking down camp, allowing him to be able to help with the task. Most of all, he was starting to get a grasp on the language.

During the day, Wade would coach Peter on random words to make sure his pronunciation was correct. They quickly advanced into basic conversation and phrases where after Peter would speak, Wade would correct anything necessary. This helped a lot at night when the other men would try to speak to Peter. He finally understood most of it.

Understanding also brought along the realization that Wade wasn’t the only one ogling Peter’s riding outfit. It seemed that most of them were looking for something nice to gaze upon after so many years at war, and they had decided Peter was that something nice. Whenever Peter would angrily demand that they seek attention among themselves, he learned that quite a few of them, in fact, _did._ They found Peter’s stunned responses to that pretty amusing.

The group of men were loud, crude, and easily prone to violence. They tended to get into more fights than the dragons did. Peter wasn’t sure where they found the energy after riding all day. Wade had jokingly stated that fighting and fucking were the only two things soldiers were good at. From the few Peter had met in Floa Bral, it seemed that was a universal thing. Peter just hoped there would be more level headed people in Wade’s province.

In the meantime, the placid Bea started bonding with Peter more and had begun to drop to one knee and allow Peter to climb on her back without having to struggle at it. She would immediately stand up and shy away from Wade afterwards, which everyone around them thought was hilarious. To be honest, Peter was amused as well, and it showed on his face. Wade never seemed to hold a grudge against it.

To Peter’s surprise, nothing slowed them down while riding. The season was slowly shifting into fall, so hot days were rare. However, brief rain showers or storms would occasionally roll through. They had yet to stop riding for those. Oiled cloths were passed around to wrap up with, keeping them mostly dry. The storms were mild so there was still a decent amount of visibility. So they rode on, wasting no more time than necessary on their trip.

They traveled fast for such a large group and others on the King’s Road would move out of the way when they saw the Kocrax troop coming. Everyone feared the group of barbarian soldiers. More than once, small military contingents sat at the connection roads to larger cities to make sure the group did not attempt to stop and visit. It worried Peter. Wouldn’t they eventually need supplies? He brought that up to Wade.

“We have a plan for that. We just have to make it there.”

 _There_ turned out to be a farm owned by the family of an enlisted group of Bral brothers that fought in the war alongside the Craxians. One of the brothers had been wounded and sent home. By some miracle, he had survived, though he was missing a leg. He was the first Bral Peter had seen that seemed at ease around the Craxians. Even the rest of the man’s family were wary of the group.

An area was set aside for the contingent to stay for two days. It would be their only rest prior to them making a push to the border of Kocrax. A few men planned to go with the wounded soldier into town to get supplies for the next part of their trip. Wade planned to stay with the camp, though he visited with the family to give his thanks for letting his soldiers stay on their land. He paid them in a generous portion of gella.

Peter stayed with camp, keeping hidden among the large men and distracting dragons. He had no desire to face fellow Brals when there was only one explanation for his presence. He knew he would end up a mockery. At least the Craxians didn’t act disgusted with the idea of Peter being married to Wade.

“Bralish women are so tiny!” Sergei boomed from where they sat around the cookfire eating. The camp was finally set up and the dragons taken care of. Wade was still wandering around somewhere, which seemed to be an invitation to Sergei to sit close to Peter. “Are all your women so smoll?”

Sergei had an accent even for Craxan that Peter sometimes struggled with. Wade had said the man wasn’t born in Swujan, but in another province. Peter gave Sergei a bland smile. “Brals come in many shapes and sizes.”

“Pah! I feel like I will break them.” Sergei thrust his hips in a lewd gesture. “One good hit and they snap like twig!”

A few of the other men around them laughed as Peter just shook his head. “I think you overestimate yourself.” That got everyone to laughing harder.

Sergei wasn’t phased by the jab and instead gave Peter a dirty smile. “Yes, you are tiny, but your hips not broken yet.”

Peter scowled into his food and told himself that he wasn’t blushing. “What makes you think it’s always _my_ hips?”

“Ha! Of course you take! Nobody would give to him!”

That set off a riot of laughter as if it were some kind of inside joke. Peter looked around at them in confusion. “What?”

Someone walked past Peter to get some food for himself. He recognized the man as Aleksei, a man always hovering around Wade when there were other people around than just the Craxians. Peter was pretty sure the man was a personal guard for Wade, but they hardly acted formally enough for Peter to determine if that was accurate or not.

“Coming back with a face like that from the mountains, I was pretty sure he’d never find a wife.” Aleksei turned to Peter with a grin. “They had to drag that one to the ceremony kicking and screaming.”

Sergei laughed and slapped Peter on the shoulder. “If ever you need a man for the daylight hours, you can come to me!”

Everyone laughed. _Everyone._ Everyone but Peter. He stood up abruptly and threw what was left of his stew into Sergei’s face. It had cooled far too much for Peter’s preference. He would have rather it been hot enough to burn and leave Sergei with a permanent mark of Peter’s anger.

As Sergei shouted and clawed stew from his eyes, Peter turned to the rest of them, trembling with outrage. “How dare you! Do you know how painful it would have been to get scars that extensive?”

“It’s just a bit of fun,” Aleksei said, holding up his hands.

“ _Shut up_! All of you shut up! You think I’m incapable of a fight because of my size? I will challenge you _all_ if I hear another word from your worthless mouths!”

A tiny voice of reason screamed at Peter to stop talking. Craxians were a violent group and would lash out at each other for fun. Peter expected half the people there to take his challenge and attack him on the spot, leaving him nothing more than a pile of pummeled flesh on the ground. However, all of them just stared at Peter in shock.

He whirled around so he could storm off to his tent and came face to face with a stunned Wade. Peter paled and his stomach flipped. Had Wade heard everything? What the others had said? What Peter had said? What did Wade think? Peter didn’t really want to stick around and find out.

Tucking his head down, Peter walked briskly away, dodging Wade’s aborted attempt to reach out to him. He didn’t slow down or talk to anyone until he reached the tent. He stood in the middle of it, taking deep breaths and trying to calm his racing mind. Anger still boiled inside of him. For all that Wade was sacrificing for his people, how could they sit there and insult him like that?

The tent flap rustled as it opened and settled back into place. Peter didn’t move. He wasn’t sure how to face Wade after such an explosion. Peter closed his eyes and sucked in a breath. “Perhaps if you demanded more respect from them, they wouldn’t feel the need to talk like that.”

“It’s not untrue.”

Peter turned around, his fists tight and trembling at his sides. “What?!”

“I’m aware that I’m ugly.”

“Shut up!”

“Why does it bother you?”

“They were mocking you!”

Wade shrugged and his eyes darted away from the outrage burning in Peter’s. “Does it matter?”

“Of course it matters!”

“Why?”

“You are their leader. They should respect you. Those are _wounds_ on your body and those don’t come from nowhere. You’ve been hurt and you have sacrificed yourself in multiple ways in order to protect them. How dare they belittle that by making jokes about your appearance. They—”

Large fingers covered Peter’s mouth. The breath left him when he noticed that Wade was looking at him with a pained smile. “Don’t do that,” he whispered.

“Do what?” Peter asked, his lips moving over Wade’s fingertips.

“Don’t make me feel like I matter to you when I don’t.”

Something sharp and painful radiated through Peter’s chest. He looked away, his eyes dancing along the dark floor of their tent. There was something raw and vulnerable in Wade’s eyes that Peter couldn’t face. It also upset him in other ways. It wasn’t fair. Wade was afraid of Peter hurting him, but Peter was the one that had been forced into their arrangement with no time to prepare or adjust.

Peter grabbed Wade’s wrist and moved it away from his mouth. “What exactly do you expect from me? I respect that you are a leader trying to do what is best for your people. I acknowledge that you are doing what you can to help me transition into your culture. But even in the best of cases, two weeks is barely enough time to make a _friend_ of someone. This is not an ideal situation for me.”

“Because you are shackled to me.”

Peter dropped Wade’s wrist in favor of drawing his fist back and punching Wade in the arm full force. Wade grunted and grabbed his new injury to protect it from further assault. He looked offended. Good. It was better than whatever had been swirling inside of him previously.

“Why are all of you in such a damn hurry to get back to your land, huh?” Peter snapped, voice rising. “Because you miss it! Because you want to go home! Because it’s been so long! At least you got to look forward to that. At least you had the luxury of knowing it was an option. Am I not allowed the time to mourn the loss of my country?”

Peter paced away and back, one hand running through his hair in agitation. “I am trying not to blame you for my current situation. I am trying to focus on the needs of _your_ many over myself. I’m sorry that I am not enough of a saint to give you everything you want with a happy heart!”

Wade had the grace to look guilty. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I was being selfish.”

It was an admission that Peter wasn’t expecting. He tried to think of the last time someone had apologized to him and was coming up blank. The fire drained out of him in an instant and his shoulders drooped. It was impossible to predict what Wade was going to say or how he would act. It kept Peter feeling unbalanced and he didn’t like that.

“Just… don’t stand there and let them say those kinds of things about you. As their chief, you deserve more respect. I understand your desire to have a comradery with them after fighting alongside them for so long, but there’s a limit to everything.”

The corner of Wade’s lips quirked. “You know, that sounds very much like something a friend would say.”

“Is that so?” Peter raised his eyebrows.

“It is.” Wade propped his hands on his hips, that spark of life lighting up his eyes once more. “In fact, if I didn’t know better, I’d even say you’re starting to like me a little.”

Peter had to fight off a smile as he crossed his arms. “Don’t get too far ahead of yourself. I feel like I’m firmly in the area of ‘tolerating.’”

“A tolerable husband… I think I can meet those expectations.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “I suppose you should set attainable goals.” Wade laughed and it finally helped ease the tension between them. Peter decided to change the subject and dodge anymore emotionally fraught conversations for the night. “Since we’ll be here for two days, how about you help me bring my trunk in and then go get some food?”

“Happy to oblige!” Wade waved his arm at the tent flap and stood aside. Peter took the invitation, leading the way to the carts with Wade trailing close behind.

 

~*~

 

During the down time they had available the next day, there was a massive cleaning spree. Quilts, shirts, leather, and canvas were all washed or dry brushed and then treated. The horses were brushed down and given extra attention. The dragons were checked for any road injuries and the paeyo had their scales filed as needed. Most of their troop took advantage of the stream nearby and gave themselves a decent scrub down before oiling back up. Even during their break in travel, there was still much to do.

Being inept at dragon care, Peter only took part in the cleaning of his own items and then taking care of Bea. Wade left the man to it and mostly helped with wrestling the karrusson into submission so they could be attended to and have their claws filed. Sergei had been excited to show off his wrestling skills, but Peter had been uncomfortable about the entire process and ran off once they had the first dragon tackled.

When Wade’s spot was finally traded off after noon so that a freshly rested man could take on the rest of the dragons, Wade took a long dip in the cool waters of the local stream. Once cleaned up, he headed back to his tent and found Peter sitting cross legged in the floor and reading. He gave Wade an odd look for walking around the camp nude and still somewhat wet.

“Reading anything interesting?” Wade asked as he pulled out a bottle of oil.

“I was going over some of the Craxian customs.” Peter thumbed the edge of the book he held. “It was written by a scholar who lived in Kocrax for many years. I would like to believe some of what he described was embellished, since there were no other scholars able to disprove his findings.”

“Hm, well…” Wade massaged the oil into a particularly troublesome knot of skin on his shoulder. “Ask me whatever you’d like. I’ll clarify things for you.”

There was a long pause before Peter asked, “Anyone has the right to be chief?”

“Mmm…” Wade tilted his head as he thought about it. “That’s a little too simple. The child of the current chief that proved themselves the most worthy would take over once the current chief is no longer capable of presiding over the people. However, if no child is worthy or no child is available to take over, then the chief can choose another. If the people protest the choice, they have the right to choose a champion to fight the chief’s selection. Whoever wins will take over as chief.”

“But wouldn’t that mean they have no training? It takes a lot of knowledge to rule.”

“Proving one’s strength is typically seen as the most important trait that is needed.”

“But that could potentially lead to harmful leadership. Shouldn’t there be an advisory at least?”

“Relying on the advice of others is a weakness.”

“That’s crazy!”

“That’s tradition.” Wade focused on his hands as he thought about his current position among his people. “Changing the minds of a large group of people who are set in their ways is difficult. Sometimes even great tragedy will not snap them out of their beliefs…”

Wade took a deep breath and forced a smile on his face as he looked over at Peter. “I can only force so much change in my lifetime. Opening up our country for trade was a hard enough sell as it was, even with so many dying of starvation. Relying on trade is seen by many as a crutch that will eventually make us weak.”

“That’s a lack of education.”

“Ha! Perhaps.” There was a lot to be said on the topic, but it wasn’t the time or place to delve into such things. Peter had vocal opinions and he didn’t seem to realize the enemies he could make by insinuating that tradition was equivalent to uneducated. “Anything else you were curious about?”

Peter’s neck flushed as he looked back at the book. “The bonding ceremony is what we would call a marriage, correct?”

Well, that was _not_ a better topic. Wade went back to scrubbing oil into his skin with a little too much force. “That’s right. No special clothing needed this time.”

“It says that part of the ceremony…”

_Here it comes._

“Is a ‘union of bodies.’”

“Your ceremony includes consumation as well.”

“In front of the _entire city_.”

“That’s not exactly—”

“They _participate_.” Peter clenched the book in his hands hard enough that it shook.

Wade sighed and dropped all pretenses of focusing on his task. “This is not some giant orgy.”

“Then please tell me this is a fantasy written by some sexually repressed scholar!” Peter’s eyes were round and it looked like he’d been desperately trying to ignore the knowledge of what the bonding ceremony was, but could no longer stay ignorant of it. However, it rankled Wade. Peter made it sound like something scandalous instead of something beautiful.

“Listen…” Wade took a breath to calm himself down and then sat down in front of Peter. “I realize you come from a very sexually repressed country—”

“Repressed? Just because we don’t publicly flaunt promiscuous rituals—”

“ _Stop_.” Wade’s voice held a hard edge to it and Peter’s teeth clicked shut. The fear was creeping back into Peter’s eyes and Wade hated that. He hadn’t meant to sound threatening. He only wanted Peter to stop attacking what he didn’t understand.

“Peter… I realize this is different for you, but would you please hear me out?” Peter didn’t respond and Wade figured that was the best he was going to get. He pushed forward. “I’ve been married once before.”

“What?” Peter’s eyes widened.

“She died. Years ago.”

“Oh…” Peter looked down at his lap. “I’m sorry.”

“We grew close as teenagers, and when we had sex it was fun and quick and distracting. We didn’t waste time learning about each other, so it was all about a quick release rather than some kind of connection. Do you know what I mean?”

“Yes.” That annoyed little frown Peter was so fond of tugged at his lips. “I am not a virgin.”

“Have you ever fallen in love with someone?”

Peter’s eyes focused inward as he remembered something. “I thought so…”

“Was it different with them?”

Peter’s silence and continued private memories was all the answer Wade needed.

“It was different when I fell in love as well. It was slow at first, but I treasured it greatly.” Wade paused a moment as he thought of her — fierce eyes and long black hair, ready to conquer the world. “When we bonded… It was something I can never fully describe.”

“Didn’t you want it to be private?” Peter murmured.

“When the bodies join at the end of the ceremony, it isn’t just about them. It’s about becoming connected to everything around them. It happens under the stars so that the gods may see and give their blessing. Others will surround those being bonded in order to offer their love and connection as a gift. It helps to make the bonding stronger, to bring their souls closer together, to fill their union with love.”

Peter was trying to read Wade’s eyes, a crease between his brows. He opened his mouth a few times, but nothing came out. Wade’s shoulders dropped. Peter was finally starting to realize that he was stuck with a romantic sap.

“I know that you don’t love me, but that just makes the ceremony all the more important. We need as much help as we can get to make this work between us, even if we are only friends.”

Peter’s eyes darted around the room and he took a shaky breath. “This is too much.”

Wade took hold of Peter’s hands. “Nobody will touch you but me.”

Bright panicked eyes looked into Wade’s sincere ones. “You said you wouldn’t force me.”

“I won’t. You have to give yourself willingly.”

That only seemed to make Peter look all the more pained. “I don’t want this.”

“If you were given a political marriage to a woman, would you not touch her as well?”

“That’s different!”

“Why?”

Peter tried to pull his hands back, but Wade kept his grip on them. He pulled one of Peter’s trembling hands up to his lips and left the barest of kisses across bony knuckles. Peter’s face was a mixture of apprehension and confusion.

“I will not hurt you. I may not be what you would ever wish for in a partner, but I will do everything in my power to make sure you get some sort of pleasure out of it.”

Peter rapidly shook his head. “I don’t want pleasure.”

“Why not?” Wasn’t that the whole problem?

“Because I shouldn’t be receiving pleasure from a man!”

Wade internally cursed the Brals hang-ups on their bed partners. “It won’t change anything if you do. There will be no profound shift in who you are as a person. You will not wake up the next day with the desire to ride every man you find across the world.”

Peter’s eyes narrowed. “Do not mock me!”

“I’m not. I’m just trying to point out that your fears are unfounded.” Wade turned Peter’s hand so he could drop a firm kiss on the inside of Peter’s wrist. “That did not hurt you, and it did not change you in any way.” Wade took Peter’s other hand and pressed it to his bare chest. “Do you suddenly have the desire to ravage me now?”

“Stop it.”

“I _want_ to make you feel good. Fear is the last thing I ever want to see in your eyes when you look at me.”

Peter pulled his hands away and Wade allowed it. Tucking his chin down, Peter wrapped his arms around himself. “Aren’t you the least bit embarrassed by any of this?”

“You mean me touching you just now or having sex in front of others?”

“Both…”

“I see no reason to be.” Wade reached out to brush back Peter’s shiny brown hair, but the man flinched at the first touch of Wade’s fingers. “Do you find me that repulsive?”

“I find you that pushy! You tell me to just accept these customs of yours despite how drastically different they are from everything I’ve grown up believing, yet you give me very little time to adjust.”

“Would time help?”

“Yes!”

“Or would it just allow you to hide from it longer?”

“I don’t have a way to magically change everything about myself to suit your needs.”

“I’m not asking that.” Wade leaned forward into Peter’s space, watching as the smaller man stiffened and moved backwards in response. “I’m simply asking that you not be afraid of me. I don’t know what else I can do to achieve that other than prove your fears wrong.”

“I’m not afraid!”

“Liar.” Wade pushed further forward and Peter continued to retreat. “Why are you running?”

“Because you’re too close!”

“Touch me.”

“No! Why?”

“Just my arm, or my leg, or my hand. Why can’t you touch me?”

“You’re naked!”

“And?” Wade smirked. “Do clothes make me less terrifying?”

“I don’t want to!”

“I know.” Something dark and melancholy stabbed at Wade’s chest but he forcibly pushed it aside. “I want someone who wants me back, but we’re both shit out of luck. So right now, I need to figure out how to get you to stop being afraid, and you need to get over your fear of touch.”

Peter glared and make a valiant attempt at controlling his breathing. Once he seemed a tad bit calmer, he raised one finger and pressed it into Wade’s bicep. “There.”

“Weak.”

“Fuck you. You wrap yourself around me every night. I rub oil on your back when you can’t reach. I can handle touching.”

“And yet here we are with you barely putting a finger on me.”

Peter almost growled as he slapped his hand down to wrap around Wade’s arm with force. “Happy?”

“It’s a start.” Wade grinned at Peter’s murderous expression. “How about this? For every challenge I give you, you get a reward if you accomplish it.”

“What kind of reward?” Peter warily asked.

“What would you like?”

There was a pause as Peter thought about that. “I want to ride alone.”

“We don’t have an extra horse.”

“You can drive a cart and I’ll ride Bea alone. You can even tie her lead line to the cart if you don’t trust me.”

“Hmm…” Wade pursed his lips and thought about it. “Then that would require an appropriate challenge in return if you’re going to kick me off my horse. How about with each challenge you win, it’s a day you can ride Bea alone.”

“Fine.”

With a wide smile Wade sat back once more and Peter cautiously sat up and took his hand back, looking like he wasn’t so sure about their arrangement. Wade, however, was highly pleased with himself. “Alright, ready for your first goal?”

“Don’t make it impossible,” Peter grumbled, looking suspicious.

Wade tapped his finger to his cheek. “Before going back to our tent after dinner, you have to kiss me on the cheek.”

“What?!”

“Come on, that’s hardly more than a familial gesture.”

“Why in front of everyone?” Peter’s voice was rising with his indignation.

“Because that’s part of the lesson.” Wade stood up and stretched as Peter spluttered in outrage. “You think about it. I’m going to go help with the paeyo.”

Wade got dressed and left Peter to his outraged fuming. The man didn’t realize it yet, but the tasks would help in the long run. If Wade couldn’t get Peter used to accepting touch, then by the time they made it to the bonding ceremony it would be obvious to everyone that Peter was an unwilling participant. That would only solidify so many people’s belief that a political marriage was a bad idea.

Perhaps it _was_ a bad idea, but it was the only option they had left. Wade and Peter would just have to live with the consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peter: There's a _sex ritual_?!  
>  Readers: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> I love these almost moments between them. heheheee <3


	6. Getting To Know You

Peter stood frozen with indecision as he stared at Wade who stood alone further down the stream. He had a reflective piece of metal propped up in the crook of a tree and was turning this way and that, trying and failing to see the back of his head. He had a knife in one hand, poised over his scalp as he pouted at his reflection.

With a sigh, Peter caved and hurried over to Wade before the man could cut himself. “Stop.”

Wade jumped and then turned to see Peter approaching “Have you seen my head? I can’t just leave it like this!” He waved his hand at the random puffs of hair growing between the scars. “I look like an idiot!”

Peter dropped his items that he’d planned to wash and snatched the knife from Wade’s hand. “ _Stop_. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“But—”

“Sit down.”

“Why do you—”

“Sit. _Down_.”

Wade huffed and dropped to the ground, folding his legs under him and crossing his arms. He looked like a sullen toddler. Peter rolled his eyes and pushed Wade’s head forward so he could get a better view. He pulled his thumb across the skin to get it to stretch and allow him an easier track.

“Hold still,” Peter mumbled as he brought the knife up and pulled the flat of the blade across the hair in short careful strokes. Wade must have sharpened it well beforehand because it cut through easily.

“I could have done it myself.”

“You could have cut yourself,” Peter returned, but the bite wasn’t in his voice as he was concentrating on his actions.

“At least it wouldn’t have grown back in that spot.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. Why didn’t you ask anyone for help?”

“Everyone’s busy,” Wade mumbled.

“Mmhm.” For all that Wade acted as if he didn’t care what people said of him, he did seem to have a few things he was self conscious about.

Peter bent down and rinsed off the knife in a bowl of water before standing back up to go after the next spot of hair. They stayed quiet as Peter worked. He was careful to dip the knife into the divots of scar tissue without causing any nicks. Wade allowed himself to be moved around and placed into whatever position Peter needed.

When all the hair was cleared, Peter tilted Wade’s head back and rinsed it off to make sure the fine hairs were washed away and wouldn’t itch. He glanced up to find Wade’s bright blue eyes focused on him. His eyes darted away as he sat down the knife and bowl.

“All finished.”

“You’re good at that,” Wade said. “You have practice?”

“Not really.”

When Peter bent to pick up his things, Wade’s arm shot out and tugged Peter down onto the grass. Peter cursed and tried to roll out of the way, but Wade was fast, moving himself so that he could pin Peter between his large arms, bringing their faces close together. Peter leaned back to try and create room between them.

“What are you doing?”

“You have gentle hands when you want them to be,” Wade said.

“What is that supposed to mean? Get off!”

“You don’t like being close to me?”

“We’re close too much as it is,” Peter snapped.

“I think we have a lot of distance for a married couple,” Wade mused.

“Why are you being so pushy all of a sudden?”

“You don’t think it will be helpful in the future for you to be more comfortable around me?”

Peter turned away. “Nothing is going to be helpful.”

“Not with that attitude.”

“So sorry that I’m not excited about being forced to have sex with a man in front of an audience.”

“I can’t force you.”

“It’s the same thing.”

Wade sighed and dropped his head forward so that it rested on Peter’s shoulder. Peter tensed and tried not to react. Wade would just be amused and torture Peter more if he reacted too much.

“Peter… I don’t know how to make this better. I’m trying, but you fight me every step of the way.”

“There is no making it better.”

“That’s no way to live. Why are you so determined to be miserable?”

“Why can’t you give me any time at all to be upset? Is this how you deal with things? Just slap on a smile and pretend that nothing hurts?”

Wade tensed and stopped breathing. Peter cut his eyes over, wondering if he’d hit the nail on the head. Still, Wade didn’t move. He just took a deep breath before speaking again. “Is that so bad?”

“It is if you just hide from it instead of dealing with it.”

“And it’s somehow better to just revel in despair?”

Peter frowned, feeling immediately defensive. It seemed they were both poking at things that were a little too raw. “I’ve had very little to be happy about in my life, alright? This is just another moment in a long string of bad luck.”

“You lost your family,” Wade guessed.

Peter swallowed hard. “Yes. To the war.”

“I lost most of mine as well in my youth… Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” Peter closed his eyes and watched it play out in front of him anyways because his mind hated him. He remembered the last time he saw his parents as a young child. He remembered his Aunt and Uncle taking him in. He remembered watching Uncle Ben die and Aunt May desperately trying to make sure Peter made it to the capital. He remembered watching sickness take her years later, leaving him all alone.

Peter curled in on himself, hating that he had to think about it, to remember the pain of it all over again. Warm arms curled around him and pulled him close. For some unknown reason, he followed, allowing himself to wrapped up and comforted by a man he barely knew.

“I know it will never be a replacement, but you’re part of my family now. We may be small, but we’re loyal. We won’t treat you as an outsider. I promise.” Wade’s voice was quiet and soothing in a way Peter had never heard it.

Part of him wanted to push Wade away and reject the notion of being accepted into a family he didn’t want. However, a large part of him flared at the idea of having a family once more. Of having people he could go to if he needed. Of having those that cared about what happened to him.

“Are you sure they’d even be happy to see me?” Peter whispered.

“What’s there not to like?”

The self deprecating part of Peter filled in the blanks for that question and it occurred to him that perhaps his concerns about Craxian culture also stemmed from his fear of them rejecting the Brals in him. “Everyone expects me to give up my culture for theirs. What if I don’t want to?”

“What parts do you enjoy?” Though Peter expected the question to be mocking, it didn’t sound like that. For all of Wade’s dislike of Brals customs, he seemed genuine in his interest in Peter’s view of things.

“I grew up valuing my privacy in a lot of ways. It feels like you want to take all of that from me.”

“That is not my intent. There are hurdles to pass, but for the most part, I would just like you to meet me halfway.”

“I am. You’re still hugging me.” Frankly, Peter would have shoved Wade away long ago had he not already grown accustomed to the man’s clinginess at night.

Wade huffed a small laugh. “I grant you… Anything else?”

“I prefer not settling every argument with my fists.”

Peter could feel Wade’s grin on his shoulder. “That is fairly ingrained in many soldiers, but more so for Craxians. I promise to always use my words with you.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

“Since you’re so small. It’d be an unfair fight after all,” Wade teased.

“Fuck you. I can hold my own!” Peter tried to push Wade off, but the arms around him tightened. Wade was laughing and it was difficult to stay indignant in the face of his good humor, though Peter tried.

Wade turned his head and Peter felt lips press against the side of his neck. He sucked in a breath and redoubled his efforts to push Wade away. Before he could even sort out exactly which negative emotion he had to Wade’s sneaky kiss, they were distracted by the men closer to camp shouting.

They pulled apart and turned towards the sound. Wade was on his feet in an instant, running to camp to see what was happening. Peter scrambled to his feet as well and followed. It sounded like far more than the usual scuffle among the men. The fact that Wade seemed worried had Peter’s nerves on edge.

Men surrounded the banked cookfire and were shouting orders too overlapping and fast for Peter to make sense of. Above their heads and between their bodies, Peter could see the moving form of a paeyo. He got close enough to watch, but kept his distance.

Multiple men were throwing their body weight into the dragon’s chest and trying to physically force it backwards. The dragon’s claws dug into the ground to keep it still and its neck stretched as far as it could to the scattered ashes of the fire. Men were scraping at the destroyed firepit, but they seemed more concerned about moving the ashes away from the dragon than they did about putting out the burning coals.

The dragon’s long tongue shot out and licked at the ground, swallowing a mouthful of dirt and ash. A couple of men ran up to shove the dragon’s head up to prevent it from happening again. Wade darted in and kicked at the dragon’s feet to dislodge it’s hold in the dirt. It slid back only the slightest amount, but it helped take it out of range of the fire. The dragon screeched in protest.

Two men came running from another direction, one of them covered in dirt. He ran up to the agitated dragon and took hold of the protruding growths on the front of its nose and yanked it down to force eye contact between them. The man then bent forward and pressed his head to the dragon’s snout, rambling nonsensical soothing words.

With as upset as the dragon was, Peter couldn’t imagine putting his face so close to its mouth. His whole body tingled with nerves, terrified that the man was going to be eaten at any moment. Every time the dragon thrashed its head, Peter flinched, but the man held on until the dragon finally began to settle down.

Peter wasn’t sure if it was the man speaking to the dragon that had managed to do the calming, or if the dragon had just run out of energy. Its whole body drooped and Peter noticed that blood was dripping to the ground from some unseen wound under its scales. The paeyo moaned a deep tone that sounded hurt and upset.

Despite the waning strength of the dragon, it still took the men a long time to turn it around and walk it back to the cart it had previously occupied. The dragon was limping and one leg stayed tucked up into its body. One wing dragged the ground at an odd angle.

The man that was talking to it stayed once the dragon had crawled back onto the cart. He curled up around it and petted its snout as it rumbled its displeasure. The others backed away, but Peter noticed Wade speaking to a few men and they strategically stayed within view of the injured dragon.

By the time Wade came back, Peter was pacing as he watched others put out smoldering twigs while they scooped glowing coals back into the fire. Wade eyed Peter’s reaction for a moment before speaking. “Are you alright?”

“I don’t know.” Peter shook his hands, trying to physically expel his agitation. “It looked ready to attack.”

“She was and she wasn’t.” Wade’s head tilted as he thought about it. “I’m honestly surprised that she’s even able to stand up given the amount of injuries she has. She recognizes us as part of her flight, but she’s not in her right mind currently.”

“I don’t understand. Why was she licking the ground? Why was that bad?”

“Ever the student,” Wade observed.

“Yes! For my own safety!” Peter snapped, his mind still tuned to danger. “Do they spit fire if they eat fire?”

Wade snorted. “No. There’s only one breed of dragons that breathe fire, and they are much _much_ bigger.” Wade ground a stray piece of ash by his foot into the dirt. “Wild paeyo eat ash, limestone, and other such minerals in order to produce a liquid that they keep inside a special pouch. It’s used for defense, but it’s also used when attacking other flights over territory. It’s the reason for their protective scales.”

Peter’s stomach sank. “What does the liquid do?”

“It eats through anything that’s alive or was once alive.” Wade shrugged. “We don’t allow the domesticated ones to produce it. It’s too dangerous. But when a paeyo is injured, their survival instincts kick in. That’s why she went after the ash.”

Peter thought over the information he knew from the books, but it rarely focused on the anatomy or detailed behavior of dragons. Though the scholar never said as much, Peter assumed he was afraid of the dragons and spent as little time around them as he could manage. Instead, he had focused on the how certain dragon by-product materials were made and how much they were worth in trade value. That did little to help Peter in his current situation.

“If a horse were as injured as that dragon…” Peter started but stopped himself, unsure of Wade’s reaction. For all that the Craxians treated the karusson as belligerent pack animals, the paeyo riders seemed to have a deeper connection.

“It’s true.” Wade looked back in the direction of the cart. “I had planned to put her down before we left the battlefield. She was in too much pain and I honestly didn’t think she’d last a week in her condition.”

“Why didn’t you?” Peter kept his voice soft, but he was pretty sure he knew the reason.

“Her rider begged me not to. He said if she survived the night, then it meant she wanted to live. She continues to survive the night, but I don’t think she’ll ever fly again.”

“Won’t she hate that? Not being able to fly?”

“Maybe, since she’s been trained for it, but she wouldn’t be the first dragon grounded by injury. It’s not the end of the world. A dragon can protect itself on land and in the sky. She’ll just have to learn a new way of life.”

“And what of her rider?”

“Well… That will be up to him.” Wade looked over and eyed Peter for a long moment. “Can I do anything for you?”

Peter stopped walking and wrapped his arms around himself. “Your lives revolve around danger.”

“I suppose that’s one way of looking at it. It’s not as bad as you might think. You just have to learn how they think, dragon and human alike. You’ll get used to it.”

“The last time my life was surrounded by danger and violence, it was during the war.” _And everyone died._

Wade walked over to Peter, slowly and carefully. He reached out one hand and placed it on Peter’s shoulder but resisted his usual need to smother Peter with his presence. Sucking in a shaky breath, Peter closed his eyes and attempted to calm his racing thoughts. He tried to convince himself that he wasn’t walking into another war zone. People weren’t going to be constantly dying around him.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Wade promised.

“You can’t guarantee that.”

“Of course I can. I’m the chief. That’s my job.”

Peter shook his head. “I don’t think I can handle this.”

“You can.” Wade sounded so utterly certain about it. Peter opened his eyes to find Wade’s bright blue ones staring at him with confidence. “You have a fire in you. You’re strong, determined, and a survivor. We may not know each other that well yet, but there’s one thing I know for certain about you.”

“What?”

“You’ll never stop fighting.” A lopsided grin grew on Wade’s face. “And that’s all you need to be able to make it in Kocrax.”

 

~*~

 

Wade woke to darkness, the light of the moon barely illuminating the top of the tent. It was way too late at night to be awake. He yawned as he tried to figure out just what it was that woke him. That was when he registered the tiny noises interspersed with soft breaths. Something hard and wet slid against his leg.

His mind slowly starting working again and he recognized Peter’s warm body pressed up against him. Peter was on his side and clinging to Wade in a way that was certainly not common. More than that, Peter was thrusting his hips in tiny little jerks of movement. His hard cock twitched and drooled its way along Wade’s thigh.

Well, that did it. Wade was hard in an instant. He told his body to calm down and take a seat. It wasn’t like Peter was doing such things of his own accord. He hadn’t had much private time since he’d been married off to Wade. The poor guy was probably backed up. There was also a good chance that he was enough of a prude to think that he couldn’t just take a moment by the tree line at night to paint the ground like everyone else did.

 _Stupid stuck up Brals customs,_ Wade complained to himself.

Shuffling a little further away, Wade shook Peter awake. As much as Wade would have liked to just let it happen so Peter could feel better, if he woke up or found out later, he would lose his damn mind. Besides, it was stupid to let himself get that backed up. Wade wasn’t about to just let it go.

“Peter. _Peter._ Wake up.”

There was a sharp intake of breath followed by some gravely and disoriented mumbling.

“Sorry to wake you from the nice dream you were having, but…”

There was a pause as Peter’s sleep addled brain caught up to what was happening. Abruptly, he jerked further back and rolled to face the other direction. He curled up on himself and stayed very quiet. Wade sighed at the unnecessary yet predictable overreaction.

“You know, that’s happening because you haven’t given junior down there any attention for two weeks.”

“By the stars, Wade, stop talking about it,” Peter complained with distressed desperation. The deep rumble of his exhausted voice was doing things for Wade, though…

“I’m just saying. You should take care of yourself more often—”

“Shut _up_!”

“Everyone does it. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“Please stop.” Peter’s voice was muffled, as if he was hiding his face behind his hands.

Wade smirked as he flopped his hand around over his head and eventually came in contact with a scrap of cloth. He pulled it to him and then tossed it in the general direction of Peter’s shoulder. The man flinched hard enough it nearly rattled the tent when it landed on him.

“Just use that and take care of things.”

Peter spluttered with indignation. “I am not—”

“It’s too dark to see anything more than a blob of you. If you’re not going to take care of it elsewhere, then take care of it here. Otherwise you’re just going to end up humping me in your sleep again.”

“ _Shut up_!”

“Look, I’ll turn in the other direction.” Wade rolled over so their backs were to each other while still maintaining a decent amount of space between them. “And I’ll stay quiet.”

Silence settled around them and Wade wondered if Peter was just going to ignore it and attempt to go back to sleep. Wade wasn’t sure if that’d be all that comfortable. Peter had been pretty close to the edge, if the precum and rock hard state were any indication. After it building up for so long, Wade would have been out of his mind with need.

A noise broke the silence, so soft Wade almost didn’t catch it at first. Then again, just the barest indication of something moving over wet skin. Wade strained to listen, only feeling the slightest bit bad about it. Peter was attractive and being newly weds, Wade didn’t have a lot of other options at the moment. If he sought someone else’s bed so soon it would look bad on him.

So Wade took what he could get and listened for every little noise given. The quickened breathing, the barely there sway of the quilt that still covered them, the random noises Peter’s hand made, it was like fresh bread to a starving man. Wade’s hand trailed down to grip his own interested cock.

He took it slow, not wanting to make any noises to alert Peter of Wade’s actions. Of course, that made things a little more difficult. He needed to make sure he finished by the time Peter did. Getting a great idea, he ran his hand along his thigh and collected the wet trail that was still left on his skin and brought it to his cockhead, rubbing it into the soft flesh with the palm of his hand. Just the knowledge of jerking himself with something from Peter had Wade’s arousal shooting sky high.

Peter’s breath became unsteady and he curled up tighter into himself. Wade clenched his teeth so he wouldn’t make a noise. Typically, he was one to make and enjoy listening to all kinds of moans, growls, grunts, and gasps for breath. Still, the newness of a game built around having to stay quiet helped do it for him. Heat and tightness settled low in his belly.

An image came to mind of Peter on his back, his skin sweaty and flushed, his lips parted and shiny, and his chest heaving. Wade imagined how that dark brown hair would be a tangled mess and those warm eyes would be glazed with desire. Peter’s face begging for more. Peter’s lips whispering lewd demands. Peter’s feral grin promising to wreck Wade’s ass…

“Nn!” The noise was muffled and soft, but the tense body under the quilt and the shuddering breath was all the indication Wade needed. Coupled with his own lewd fantasies, Wade was dumping his load into his own scrap of cloth.

They stayed quiet, taking deep and steady breaths as they recovered. Wade happily floated on a cloud of afterglow, feeling the languid weight of it settle into his bones and pull at his consciousness. Of course, he always slept better when wrapped around a warm body…

Too sleepy to really care about Peter’s potential awkwardness, Wade rolled over and dragged Peter’s back against his chest. Predictably, Peter tired to fight Wade off and protested with plenty of vulgar expletives. Wade ignored it all and cuddled up against Peter, humming with contentment.

“Not everything has to be some harrowing experience,” Wade sleepily mumbled. “You could just drop it and go to sleep.”

“Fuck you.”

“Feel free.”

Peter huffed in annoyance but his own exhaustion was dragging him down. He didn’t try to push Wade off or make any further comments about how awkward things were or how horrible of a person Wade was. It wasn’t long before they were both drifting off to sleep. As a reward for Peter not fighting Wade tooth and nail over the entire situation, Wade decided to simply not mention it the next day.

Who said Wade wasn’t good at meeting people halfway?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you don’t know, ash and limestone create heavy alkaline (base) products. You can filter water through ash to make your own lye. Chemicals that are heavy in base do the same thing as acid to organic material.
> 
> I decided I wanted to do kind of a reverse sleepy hard-on trope since Peter was the one having the wet dream. hehehe I took great joy in writing this chapter. XD I hope you liked it~


	7. The Haggler

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Information key:**  
>  Floa Bral: _Peter’s home country, known for its prosperous lands._  
>  King J. Jonah Jameson: _King of Floa Bral_  
>  Kocrax: _Wade’s home country, known for being the only nation with dragons._  
>  Gella: _Dragon dung and vegetation formed into a hard brick and used as a burning fuel source. It burns brighter, hotter, and longer than any other current useable fuel source in any known country._

_Lady Mary Jane Watson glided by, smelling of roses and looking like a flower herself. Peter watched her go with wide eyes, his lips parting in awe. She was beautiful, the most beautiful person Peter had ever seen. She was in court for the season, looking to find a husband, and was escorted to official dinners by a new suitor every time. Peter had yet to get up the courage to speak to her._

_“Do you know who that is?” a familiar and nasty voice hissed in Peter’s ear._

_Peter didn’t respond. His body tensed up and he gripped the back of the chair he stood in front of, hoping that all the women would be sat soon so that he could hide behind all the chatter of the other nobles. The looming presence of Duke Thompson didn’t move away._

_“_ That _,” he continued, “is above you.”_

 _Peter bit his tongue to stop himself from correcting the man that Mary Jane was a_ she _, not an item for sale. He kept his breathing steady and stared straight ahead. After a few seconds, Duke Thompson moved on. It would be noticeable and frowned upon if he stayed hovering over someone that wasn’t speaking to him instead of walking to his seat. Peter breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that propriety had saved him once again._

_A bell chimed and the men took their seats at last. Servants scurried around them, serving the first course and filling the drinks of those that had immediately downed theirs. Peter kept his head down and ate slowly, one ear on the conversation around him. It was important to be aware of as much information as possible if one wanted to survive in court._

_“We’ll be leaving once the winter ice breaks and clears the roads.”_

_Peter tuned in to the conversation. He was such a low ranking noble that it typically set him near those with too few resources to not be directly involved with their family’s business needs. Trade was something Peter had always had an interest in, though that was likely influenced by his friendship with Harry. Given the option in life, Peter would have entered into alchemy or education — or both._

_“You think north is the way to go?” someone else asked._

_“Of course. It has been a long winter. They’ll need all they can get.”_

_That wasn’t true. Most of the northern nations had been making new trade agreements with other countries, afraid of Floa Bral’s seemingly never ending war. Harry had said that merchants from other countries had begun whispering that relying on trade with Floa Bral was a risk. It upped their business options, but it was going to hurt Floa Bral in the long run._

_“Rain was not what it should have been this year,” Peter spoke up. “The south would be more interested in trade at this point. They should be surviving on stock by now.”_

_The southern nations were low in trade, having been cut off from many of their neighboring countries when they refused to take sides in the war. They were poor countries, but with the market as it was, it would be a safer risk in the south._

_“And who are you?” one of the men asked, as if Peter hadn’t been sat near him for years._

_Peter took a steadying breath, ignoring his nausea and clamping down on his immediate need to get angry. However, before he could speak, someone else cut in._

_“He’s nobody,” Lord[Kasady](http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Cletus_Kasady_\(Earth-616\)), Duke Thompson’s right hand man, spoke. “Please, tell us, _ Lord _Parker. How often do you attend to your family’s trade prospects? Oh, that’s right. You have no family, no lands, and nothing to trade.”_

_Peter grit his teeth and stared at the plate in front of him, his fork trembling under the pressure of his grip. There was a moment of silence around those closest to them, then the older men scoffed and continued talking. Peter didn’t eat much that night._

 

~*~

 

Eventually, their troop hit the last portion of the King’s Road that they could travel on. From then on, travel slowed considerably as they moved across open and uncleared land or what few smaller roads they happened upon. Still, for such a large party, they managed to cover a fair distance each day.

The terrain began to change once they crossed the border and into the sovereign nation of Q’otha. The trees shortened and spread further out, thick bushes and undergrowth became more prominent. Thankfully, Q’otha had a plethora of roads to choose from.

Q’otha was a small country that sat between Floa Bral and Kocrax, with the tip of the large country of Cethad touching its northernmost border. It also had the largest and most active port city of all the known nations, allowing it to thrive under its own sovereign status. All traders traveled to Q’otha and the trade markets were open year round.

Being nestled up against Kocrax meant that enterprising businessmen could travel to the border and gain access to the rare exports, selling them for high prices at port. Peter wondered what the exchange rate for those goods were currently with Kocrax finally willing to trade more often now that Wade was in charge.

Inevitably, they passed a trader’s caravan on the road. They knew it was coming due to one of the fliers overhead swooping down to whistle a code about it earlier that morning. Peter had expected to pass it by, but a group of riders swerved off from the troop to meet it. Wade and Peter joined the small party.

They were riding double once more as Peter had failed to accomplish his next challenge for nearly a week. Previously, it had been little things like kiss Wade’s cheek, sit in various close positions with Wade, hold hands, bring Wade his portion of dinner, rub oil onto Wade without complaint, or other such things. But then Wade had told Peter his next step was to masturbate in the tent and stop acting like it was a big deal.

It _was_ a big deal and Peter was angry at Wade for bringing it up again. So riding double it was.

The small group that approached the trader’s caravan rode fast, taking advantage of their smaller size to get close and conduct business quickly. Peter watched the group of traders in the distance slow and come to a stop. He looked around at the group of rough looking riders surrounding him. Well, maybe the traders would recognize them at Craxians.

Turns out, they did not.

The trading caravan had locked themselves down, arrowheads poking out of the breaks in the wood slats that held their cargo and now all the people carrying said cargo. The Craxians were shouting in common tongue, outraged at the disrespect and demanding to speak to someone. Their accent was almost too thick to make out.

Wade hopped off the horse and joined the others. Peter prayed that the man would diffuse the situation, but alas, Wade was just as much of a brute. He walked right up to the cart and banged on the walls. A moment later, he was dodging an arrow. Peter cursed them all for being idiots and nudged Bea into motion.

“Back up!” Peter snapped. “You look like a group of thieves!”

Many of them looked offended, but of course it was Wade’s loud mouth that answered. “We have every right to request trade!”

“I’m not arguing that.” Peter pulled Bea around and had her start herding everyone back to their own cart that sat further away. Bea seemed to take great joy in the task and she stomped her front hooves at them in warning if they tried to sneak past her. Wade looked betrayed, but more over Bea than Peter.

Once they were all a good distance away and sullenly glaring at the silent caravan, Peter patted Bea’s neck and she obligingly dropped to one knee to let him down. He stroked her nose and praised her when she stood. “Keep an eye on them for me, okay?”

Wade opened his mouth to say something, but Peter cut him off. “What do you have to trade?”

When Wade crossed his arms and refused to speak like an overgrown toddler, Solo answered the question. “Gella and some dragonhide. We also have a few horns that we polished up already.”

Peter made an educated guess that they had the items from dragons that had not survived their time in the war. He nodded and walked over to the cart to get an idea of how much they had available. It was enough to get them a few bags full of gold if traded correctly. However, a traveling caravan likely wouldn’t have that much available. They’d have to do a trade for goods, and it would be unbalanced in favor of the merchants.

“What do we need?” Peter asked.

“Everything!” Wade snapped, throwing his hands in the air and pacing. Peter rolled his eyes.

“We could use some food for the rest of the trip — and drinking water,” Solo again answered in Wade’s place. “If there are fabrics and grain stock, that can be used back home. Also, salt if they have it, but we can get that through the main ports if we need to.”

“Alright.” Peter nodded to himself. When he felt certain about his plan he turned to look at the still guarded caravan. Wade perked up and looked ready to charge the poor group of traders. Peter glared at him. “No. I’m going alone. Everyone stay here.”

“Over my dead body!”

Peter huffed in annoyance. “You don’t trade with people by shouting at them!”

“They act as if we’re criminals!”

“You do _not_ look like people wanting to trade! You look like people ready for battle!”

“That’s because we’re soldiers!”

“Exactly!” Peter threw his hands in the air. “Traders get attacked all the time by those looking to steal their goods. They have to be suspicious. Let me handle this.”

Wade crossed his arms over his chest. “You’ll get hurt.”

“I won’t get hurt because I’m going to do this _properly_.”

Solo cleared his throat. “We would all feel better if you had some form of defense.”

“I’m not helpless, you know.”

“I’m not implying.” Solo looked sheepish.

“Fine…” Peter pointed at Solo and two other men he knew to be more calm natured in comparison to others. “You three can follow me, but stay out of sight.”

Wade scoffed, taking offense. “Why do I stay behind?”

Peter raised his eyebrow and snarked, “Because you’re the chief, we don’t want you getting hurt.”

Everyone else snickered as Wade fumed, but he never once pulled rank. He could have. He could have demanded that Peter step aside and ordered his men to do whatever he pleased. In fact, none of them had any reason to listen to Peter. He had never been to Q’otha and his common tongue was rusty. Yet, there they all were, following orders and trusting that he knew what to do. The realization of that left Peter feeling oddly dizzy.

Solo looked to Peter for instruction and Peter took a deep breath and pretended that wasn’t entirely odd. He had the three people with him stay in the blind spots of those hiding in the caravan’s covered carts. He also worked with Solo on a few specific lines so he could cue the man to say them when needed. With that done, Peter carefully approached the cart.

“Lo and well met travelers!” Peter called. It was a common greeting for traveling merchants. Peter had learned that from Harry. “Are you well?”

There was a tense pause. Peter kept his distance and stayed within sight of those inside. He was dusty from travel, but his clothes were well tailored. The embroidered banner of his house sat on his vest, and as pointless as it was now, the merchants wouldn’t be aware of such details.

“Lo and well met,” came a cautious and muffled voice. “We were set upon by bandits. Are you not in danger yourself, good sir?”

“Aye, I saw you were in trouble and I’ve cleared the road for you.”

Another long pause. Likely they were debating whether Peter was a bandit in fancy stolen clothes or not. “We greatly appreciate your service, good sir. May we ask your name?”

Peter bowed. “Lord Peter Parker, courtier to King Jameson of Floa Bral.” It was technically true, as he had been advisor for the Kocrax nation previously. The title sounded much fancier than his life had actually been.

“At your service,” Peter added as he stood straight once more. “Floa Bral is eternally grateful for traders such as yourself. You have served our country well during a time of unrest. Blessed we are that the war is over and trade may flourish once more.”

“M-my Lord!” There was rattling and stumbling around and then an older man burst from the cart and bowed at Peter. “I am sorry to seem so suspicious. We do not wish to bring insult upon your great nation.”

“Nay! No insult taken. Merchants must be wary on the open road. Alas, it is my dear companions and I that wish to beg forgiveness of you.”

“Companions?” The merchant straightened and looked over at Solo who was closest. Peter gave the signal.

Solo bowed and it looked awkward and stiff. With a thick accent he said, “Lo ‘n’ wull met.”

The merchant gaped at Solo and Peter jumped into the silence. “I am traveling with the soldiers of Kocrax that came to Floa Bral’s aid in our time of need and helped to turn the tides of war. They are returning home after their long years on the battlefield, but they are in need of supplies. Do you have anything available? We have much we can trade.”

“I… Well… Kocrax, you say?”

“Aye!” Peter smiled and took a few steps forward. “There is much gella to be had, but also…” Peter paused for dramatic effect and winked. “Dragonhide.”

“Oh my…” The merchant’s eyes lit up with the concept. Gella was hard enough to acquire, but dragonhide was even more rare.

Peter gave Solo the next signal and the man grappled with the words. “T’would be ‘n honor ta trade wif ye, buh… bein’ ya ‘ave goods ya offer.” Peter tucked his finger behind his back and rapidly twirled it until Solo caught on. “A-ah! Um. _Sir_.”

Solo awkwardly smiled and Peter put on his best charming grin. One of the other men in the distance grinned when the merchant looked over at him. He propped a hand on his hip and pointed at the merchant with one finger while giving an exaggerated wink. Peter had no idea who told him that was a good idea and he resisted the urge to slap a hand over his face and groan.

Peter cleared his throat to get the attention of the now baffled merchant. “Good sir, would you be willing to part with some basic food stock for ten bricks of gella?”

“Ten?” the merchant choked. It was a good five times the worth of what Peter was asking for.

“Aye, arm’s length in size. My friends are soldiers and have not much of a mind for trade. We would greatly appreciate your help.” Peter raised his eyebrows conspiratorially, making sure the merchant believed they were on the same side: the savvy versus the clueless.

The merchant rushed over and banged on the wall of the cart. “Come, lads! Display our wares for the good people!”

There was a short argument in a language Peter didn’t know, but eventually, the rest of the people left the safety of their cart and brought out the items they wanted to display. Solo took his cue to run to their own cart and have it brought closer as Peter perused what was available. They pulled out all manner of things, trying to sell him items he most certainly didn’t need. He let the man talk, however, as being in business mode helped to calm sellers.

Eventually, Wade walked over and stood behind Peter like a silent but nosey shadow. He kept straining his neck to look at the pointless items the merchant kept trying to push. Mostly jewelry, decoration, and baubles. Though everyone was wary of the rough looking Craxians, a merchant could spot an easy target from a mile away.

A chunk of broken opal that was wire wrapped and attached to a strip of leather thong to form a necklace was held up to the bright sunlight. It sparkled in a myriad of colors and Peter smiled politely. It may have been pretty, but it was mostly worthless in its current state. Wade looked like a man hypnotized as his eyes followed the stone. Peter sighed.

It didn’t take long for them to come to a deal. The merchants seemed okay with selling out as much as they could. They figured they were still close to the big market cities and could just turn right around to sell their new Craxian goods and then head back out once more. So Peter didn’t feel all that bad when he purchased every last bit of food available, including all their spices, salt, and potable water. He also bought out what limited fabrics they had, which was mostly linen, along with various oils, wine, and a large block of wax.

The perishable fruit would have to be eaten on the trip, but at least they would be eating and drinking well for the next couple of weeks or so. Many of the Craxians seemed to already be looking forward to the celebration they decided was going to happen that night. Peter smiled to himself, feeling a pleased buzz at the realization that he was making people _happy_ and _appreciative_ of his efforts.

Peter glanced over at Wade who was trying to focus on loading up the barrels of wine, but kept glancing over at the jewelry that the merchant’s sons were packing up. For a chief, he had simple tastes.

“We greatly appreciate your business, my lord.”

Peter gave the merchant a courteous smile. “Nay, we are grateful for your assistance. This will make travel much easier and faster for us now.”

The merchant practically glowed with happiness, having had the better end of their deal. He was going to make a fortune when they traveled back to market. And to be honest, Peter had lied about how much gella was available and had haggled an additional five bricks with a few “I suppose we could spare it…” lines. Wade had been surprised, as he had been prepared to trade the entire cart’s worth. Peter really needed to sit everyone down for a lesson in market values.

But in the end, Wade had allowed Peter to take over trade agreements completely and not once argued with anything Peter had said. It still baffled Peter that he had been given so much trust in the matter, especially since he could have easily abused the system to buy enough jewels to trade for passage on one of the many boats in a Q’othan harbor.

Peter wouldn’t. He had decided long ago that he wouldn’t walk away, no matter how much he disliked his current position. But the option was there, and Wade acted as if Peter would take it any time. Wade was used to not relying on people. Peter could relate…

“Good sir,” Peter said to the merchant. “One more thing, if I may.”

“But of course! Anything for my best customer!”

Not long after that, they were back on the road and speeding along the path to catch up with the rest of the troop. Once they finally made it and fell back to a slower pace, the sun was setting, shining bright strips of light across their party. They would be pulling off to set up camp soon.

“How did it go?” someone shouted to their group.

“We made it back with enough goods to see us the rest of the journey!” Everyone looked impressed by that. “All thanks to Peter the Haggler!”

Peter’s eyes went wide. “Peter the what?”

Solo laughed. “Yes! Peter the Haggler! May he always bring us good fortune in trade!”

Everyone cheered and Peter felt himself blush. He tucked his head down and refused to look at anyone. He didn’t deserve such praise. They had no idea how much he had undersold their products.

“You know…” Wade spoke quietly so they wouldn’t be overheard. “If it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t have managed to purchase anything at all.”

“You just need a little guidance on how to properly approach a caravan.”

Wade snorted. “You sell yourself short.”

“You aren’t angry with me?”

“For what?” Wade asked, and he seemed honestly confused.

“For taking over your job.”

Wade shrugged. “I was frustrated but not at you. I’m capable of admitting that others are far better at words than I. Especially a Bral.”

Peter couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips. “Right…” He took a deep breath and steadied his nerves, telling himself that there was no reason to be embarrassed over what he was about to do. Reaching into the pocket inside his vest he said, “One more thing.”

“Hm?”

Peter held up the simple necklace with the broken piece of opal, letting the light reflect off its many colors. Wade tensed, vibrated, and then made a weird high pitched and choked off scream in his throat. Peter was worried the man was about to fall off the horse.

“You bought it!” Wade wheezed.

Peter pulled one of Wade’s hands off the reins and placed it on Wade’s calloused palm. “For you.”

There was a pause and then a very wet sniffle. “I-it’s so p-pretty.”

“Are you _crying_?” Peter _did_ blush, then. Why in the world would Wade cry over something so simple?

“I’m just so happy!” Wade curled forward and buried his face in Peter’s hair, his arms going lax. Peter quickly snatched up the reins so at least one of them was paying attention to the road. Not that it was likely needed. Bea seemed used to Wade’s antics.

“Oi! Keep your seat on the horse, at least,” Peter groused, trying to get mad in order to hide his embarrassment.

Wade wrapped his arms around Peter’s waist and just curled closer. “You’re the best wife.”

“By the stars, Wade. Please stop. It’s not that big of a deal. It’s a broken stone.”

“I really like shiny things.”

“I noticed.” Peter rolled his eyes and tried to act above Wade’s overreaction. But secretly, deep down inside, he was feeling something warm bloom in his chest. Nobody had been so ecstatic over a simple present since Aunt May. It made Peter feel… _wanted._

 

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to make common tongue’s sentence structure and cadence different from how I’ve been writing the other languages. Dunno how well I did at that. ^.^’
> 
> I got AMAZING ART from [Yuoling](http://yuoling.tumblr.com/) and went back to add it to this chapter! The outfits and the necklace and the sash and Bea! It's all there! I love it so much, it's so beautiful! See the full sized art: [Here](http://yuoling.tumblr.com/post/173167950578/peter-and-wade-from-the-beautifully-written-fanfic)
> 
> (I have spoken to this artist, discussed this with them, have permission from them to show this picture, have permission to talk about this picture, have permission to note and link to the artist who drew it, and am in continuous contact with this artist. Thank you.)


	8. Welcome to Kocrax

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might want to do a quick search on tablelands to get an idea of their look as mesa and butte are terms that will be used to describe the topography of Kocrax throughout the next few chapters.
> 
>  **Terms that will be used this chapter:**  
>  Flight: _A group of dragons. The equivalent to a pack, pride, or herd._  
>  Litham: _A mouth-veil that attaches to a head covering to protect the wearer from sun and dust during travel._  
>  Mesa and butte: _Tableland, a hill or mountain with a flat top resembling a table. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Table_(landform)_

It wasn’t hard to tell when they had crossed into Kocrax, as the landscape changed abruptly. Green turned to sunbleached cracked earth with only the occasional plantlife pushing through the inhospital land. This heralded the hard part of their journey, as it would require a lot of weaving around very specific routes.

Wade took the opportunity to explain to Peter how things worked. Providing lessons on their country helped to pass the time as much as it helped Peter learn the language. “Most of Kocrax is uninhabitable and nothing grows. There will be spots of greenland up on the higher slopes. When you fly, you can see how they form a trail. It’s important to follow that trail.”

“Does the trail grow along a stream or underground river or something of the sort?” Peter pulled his [litham](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Litham) up higher on his face. He wasn’t quite used to the dust that was kicked up from traveling across such dry lands, nor was he used to wearing a garment that covered so much of his face. He adjusted it constantly.

“No, it isn’t that we _lack_ water, it’s that there’s nothing to _stop_ the water because nothing grows. That makes the rainy season dangerous.” It was also why he wanted to push the group as fast as they could go along the hard packed earth. Time was not on their side, and rain would be coming for them soon.

“Why does nothing grow?” Peter looked around the landscape in confusion. “It’s hot because the sun is high and there’s no shade, but it’s not as hot as I was expecting.”

“Dragons.” Wade glanced up, remembering to check on one of the riders flying above them. The paeyo was calmly gliding along updrafts, so all must have been well. Wade shoved his pretty necklace back into his shirt so he would stop getting distracted by the sparkles.

“Dragons? What about dragons?”

“Most dragon poop will kill a plant within days. This is also paeyo territory. Wild paeyo spit, and that substance can cause the ground to become barren for years if it accumulates. Then the rains come like a flood and spread it across everything. That’s why only the higher areas that avoid the flood water grow anything.”

“And the path?”

“It’s the border between flight territories. Paeyo flights are aggressive and they have very distinct territory lines, so that space in between doesn’t suffer from the dragons as much.”

Peter eyed the determined plantlife growing atop the steep [mesa](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mesa). The base of the hills were smooth and sharp from water erosion. Bugs gathered around the fragrant plants overhead. Fragrant, but not in a good way. They smelled awful, but the various insects seemed to like them.

“What do the dragons eat normally?”

Wade shrugged. “Young males that become too dominant often get kicked out of their flights, and a lone male seeking to find its own territory gets picked off pretty fast by other flights. Dragons aren’t picky eaters. They’ll eat each other, lizards, snakes, rodents, and even bugs. I’ve watched a karusson shove it’s tongue into an ant hill.” Wade shuddered at the thought of all those tiny stinging bites.

“Are there even that many animals available out here with so little plantlife?”

“You’d be surprised. Everything in Kocrax is stubborn. It’s how we survive.”

“I suppose I’m used to more… favorable climates.”

Wade chuckled. “Yeah, all the animals in Floa Bral are tiny and squishy. Everything’s going to look different to you now.”

“Everything already does.”

That night while they were setting up camp, Peter couldn’t seem to stop watching the karusson as they scratched at the ground and stared at something that couldn’t be seen with extreme focus. Then they would tense up and slam their noses into holes too small for their snouts to fit. This always resulted in them rearing back and scratching at their faces, snorting with discontent, but they’d just do it all over again within minutes.

The rodents that made their home deep in the earth seemed to enjoy teasing the giant creatures. The karusson’s smaller cousins ate them regularly and the instinct was still there in a body too large to compensate. That resulted in a large group of idiotic dragons excitedly staring at dirt and occasionally face planting into it. At least it was entertaining to watch.

Since the paeyo were now on flying rotation, they ended up all settling down to sleep while camp was set up instead of prior. With the lack of trees available, some would head out to curl up on top of small local [buttes](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Butte), while others would painstakingly pick a spot to sleep and then scratch at and spin around it forever before finally settling down. Peter watched those antics closely as well.

It was obvious that Peter was still very apprehensive around the dragons, but Wade didn’t know how to get the man past that without just interacting with them. That was a problem, however, since Peter was highly reluctant to get close to one. He seemed content to just watch from a distance. Since Peter was stressed out enough as it was, Wade didn’t push it.

Peter was quiet through his meal, which meant he was bothered by something and holding it in. Wade had learned that the hard way, so he pestered Peter to get him to speak up. Otherwise, he would just keep it all to himself until he was a solid rod of panic that didn’t sleep. He needed better coping tactics, that was for sure.

“What happens when a wild paeyo attacks us?” Peter asked.

“They won’t.” Wade spoke in Bralish, partly as a reward for Peter’s effort in Craxan throughout the day, and partly in hopes that it would help calm Peter.

“Why not?” Peter frowned like he was being lied to and coddled. Wade wondered for the hundredth time what had caused Peter to end up so paranoid of other people.

“They won’t fly this close to the boundary line. That’s the whole reason things grow here. Beyond that, we’re splitting up the fliers so we have someone in the air at all times now to keep watch. We’ll see something coming long before it gets to us.”

“And at night?”

“Dragons don’t fly at night. They can’t _see_.” Wade smirked, as he fiddled with the bit of opal, turning it this way and that to catch the firelight. “You’re being paranoid again.”

Peter huffed. “I know nothing about these lands! Of course I’m paranoid. You can’t tell me that Craxians are used to constant struggle only to follow that up with telling me I’m safe.”

“You’re _safe_ because we know how to keep ourselves safe. More than that, I won’t let anything happen to you. I’ve already promised you that.” Wade dropped the necklace back into place around his neck and picked up his cup of wine.

There was a pause, and Peter seemed to struggle with Wade’s promise. “Because I’m valuable to you.”

“Because you’re family,” Wade insisted. He’d get that through Peter’s head one way or the other.

Peter met Wade’s eyes with an unreadable look. He stared for a long time, as if he was searching for something. “What if I can’t conform to what you want me to be?”

Wade knit his eyebrows together. “Conform? Why would I want you to do that?”

“Don’t play dumb. I’m coming into _your_ world and having to follow _your_ customs.”

“I know you don’t really get it yet, but our ‘customs’ aren’t that strict. To be frank, _your_ customs have molded you into what your country wanted. How about now, you decide what you actually want to be?”

“You act like I have that kind of freedom.”

“You act like you don’t.” Wade leaned back on one arm and took a gulp of wine.

Peter scowled. “So if I wanted to study the plant life, or write my own detailed book on Kocrax with all its secrets, or set up classes for the younger generation to learn multiple languages, or own a dragon for myself, or take a lover on the side?” His voice rose with each example, as if they were somehow increasingly terrible things.

Wade shrugged. “Then do it.” He waved his cup around as he thought about the last example. “You’ll have to wait a year after the bonding ceremony for the lover thing, though. For the sake of appearances and all that.”

There was a long stunned silence. “ _What_?”

“Don’t give me a list of things you want and then get upset when I tell you that you can have them.” Wade sat up and placed his drink back on the ground. “Why are you so determined to be unhappy?”

“Did you actually listen to anything I just said?” Peter snapped.

Wade turned to grip Peter by the shoulders. “Write your damn book, study what you want, I don’t care. You know what I’d like you to do?”

Peter gave Wade a suspicious look, likely thinking the answer had something to do with pleasures of the flesh. Not that Wade was against such things… “I am not—”

“I want you to teach me anything you know about trade.”

Peter blinked. “You…”

“I’m utilizing what I can in order to run my province. That means putting you to good use. Do you hate trade so much that you would be miserable even speaking of it to me?”

“I… I don’t mind trade…”

“Well, that is what I want from you.” Wade sat back and crossed his arms. “As for changes? I would like for you to learn how to properly work with dragons so you will not get hurt. I require that you respect the people that approach you so long as they harbor no ill intent. Is that too much to ask for?”

“Do not make me sound irrational when you know very well it is much more than that. You would struggle the same as me in a world so different from your own.” Peter gestured angrily with his arms to make his point, the wine he’d drank bringing a tinge of color to his cheeks. Wade kept it to himself how cute Peter looked like that.

“I would and I did so while on the battlefield for years in _your_ country. I will grant you that I’m crazy enough to have simply rolled with it, but my men took some time to adjust. They managed.” Wade spread his arms to indicate them and then pointed at Peter. “You will manage.”

“ _Your_ men got to go home.”

“Is that what you really want? I would like to point out that the first time I met you, you were bound and gagged.”

“That—” Peter spluttered in outrage. “I had a life before you!”

“And I would love to hear about it instead of your sullen silence.”

“Why do you care?”

“Why do you not want me to?” Wade challenged in return.

Peter glanced around and looked suddenly self conscious. It occurred to Wade that they were making a scene. Their arguments and Wade’s dares were becoming nightly entertainment to the others. Wade snatched up his drink, gulped it all down, and then stood up, indicating that Peter should follow.

“Then let’s take this elsewhere.”

Peter grumbled, but he followed Wade away from the fire and over to the tents. Peter shivered the further from the fire they got. The high temperature of the day dropped drastically at night with nothing to help hold the heat and constant gusts of wind whipping across the flat lands. The insides of the tents were still warm from collecting the afternoon heat, however.

“Listen,” Wade said once they were inside, too wound up to be patient. “If there was any chance that I could make a marriage work, I planned to do so. Surely if arranged marriages were impossible to work out, other countries wouldn’t be so fond of them.”

“That’s different!” Peter argued.

“Pretty sure it’s the same.” Wade watched Peter’s face fly through all kinds of emotions.

“We’re two _men_!”

“Why are you so hung up on that?”

“It— You’re— This isn’t how it works!”

“Says who?”

Peter let out a wordless shout of frustration and then started pacing. “How can you stand there and act as if there is no difference between a man and a woman?”

“Of course there are differences. There are benefits to both. That’s why most people have one of each.”

“Most—” Peter choked and stopped walking. “ _What_?”

“I get that your marriage beliefs are all about marrying a single man to a single woman, but a bonding isn’t limited to that. Not to mention, it’s so much more than just a marriage. It’s about souls devoting themselves to another. That doesn’t have to be confined to two people and it doesn’t have to be limited to specific body parts.”

“Have… you…” Peter couldn’t seem to get the words out.

“Been with a man before? Of course. Most have.”

“I promise you, most have _not_.”

“You act as if there is some significant difference. There is not. Is this why you’re still so afraid?”

Wade walked forward and Peter backed up in kind. Frowning, Wade took a large step and almost lost Peter when he ducked down and dodged. Wade spun around to find Peter creating distance between them, a wild look in his eyes. Just as Wade had always suspected, the man was quick as a rabbit.

“Fine!” Wade snapped. “You can ride alone tomorrow if you let me prove something.”

Peter’s eyes narrowed. “Prove what?”

“That the world isn’t going to end if I kiss you.”

“No.” Peter took another step back.

“It is _just_ a kiss. I will do nothing more! If you have _such_ a bad reaction that you vomit all over me, I won’t touch you again.”

“Why are you pushing this?”

“Because _we’re married_ and you act like you’re going to burst into flames if I touch you!”

“I grew up my whole life being taught what was right and wrong and you want to undo that with a single kiss and a few dismissive words?”

“Frankly? Yes. It would make both our lives easier.”

“Do you have any idea what this is like for me?” Peter glared, his hands clenched into fists.

“Honestly? No. I don’t. Because _you won’t talk to me_.” Wade scrubbed at his face. “Do you remember how your situation is _not my fault_ and I’m doing what I can to make this easy on you?”

“What do you want me to say?!” Peter raged. “That this isn’t the life I wanted? That I’ve lost everything? That I’ve been prevented from achieving any goal I’ve set out to accomplish? That I have no way to prepare for what’s ahead of me and nothing to return to?”

Peter took a shaky breath and continued, voice rising. “It’s easy for you to say my customs are wrong when you get to return to yours! You get to hold onto your convictions and believe them to be correct while I get to debate whether it’s worth trying to retain mine in a world where everyone will hate me for it, or just throw them all away and assume everything I’ve grown up learning was a lie!”

“I…” Wade rubbed the back of his neck. “I hadn’t thought about it like that?”

“Fist fights are a _hobby_ for your people. Everything in this country, _including rain_ , can kill me the moment I let my guard down. Your goal in life is to contradict everything I believe. Why do you keep telling me to just _get over it_?”

Wade shrugged. “I had to learn a long time ago to roll with the punches. I lived alone in the mountains for years knowing full well that a dragon could eat me at any moment and having no clue where by next meal would come from. I may have gone a little crazy in order to deal with that. I don’t know _how_ to handle things other than to convince myself that it doesn’t matter.”

Peter gaped for a long time. “You did _what_ in the mountains?”

“Eh… Long story. The point is, I don’t know what to say to make this better for you. All I can do is prove to you that maybe, _maybe_ , I’m not full of shit.”

Wade walked forward and that time Peter didn’t move, though he did tense up. Carefully sliding one arm around Peter’s waist, Wade pulled them closer together. Peter’s hands immediately moved to press against Wade’s chest and maintain distance. He looked ready to fight at any moment.

“And how is kissing me going to change anything?” Peter asked.

“It’s not. That’s the point. The world isn’t going to flip upside down just because you kissed a man.”

“That is not what I—”

“Peter,” Wade interrupted and leaned down, following Peter as the man leaned back in response. “How about instead of a thousand arguments, you let me do this one tiny thing to prove my point? It will only take a moment. Just a kiss, pure and simple, nothing extra.”

That thin chest rose and fell with deep, quick breaths. Peter’s eyes darted between Wade’s, trying to think of a way out. His mind was spiraling in panic, trying to find the trap he was sure was coming. He was too easy to read sometimes. Wade hated that life had taught Peter to be so paranoid.

“Well?” Wade proded.

Peter’s face turned hard. “Just get it over with if you’re so insistent.”

That was as good as Wade was going to get, he knew. So instead of arguing Peter’s terrible concept of consent, Wade just followed through. He leaned down slowly, giving Peter time to bail if he needed to, but he never moved, just stayed stock still and rigid. Wade tilted his head and oh so carefully brought their lips together.

And oh, how nice Peter’s lips were. Soft from his life in a land without such a harsh climate, warm and pliant in a way that Peter rarely was, and so full of passionate promises if Wade could ever find the key to Peter’s impenetrable door. As much as Wade wanted to stay where he was and coax more from Peter, he’d made a promise. He pulled away after lingering for only the barest of moments.

Standing straight once more, Wade assessed Peter’s face, but it remained sullen and largely unreadable. Wade removed his arm and took a step back, raising his eyebrows. “See? Simple.”

Peter averted his eyes. “Are you done?”

“Are you? Have I transformed you into something unrecognizable by the power of a single manly kiss?”

“Can we drop this?” Peter bowed his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m exhausted.”

As much as Wade buzzed with the need to prod Peter until he admitted that Wade was right, it wouldn’t help matters, so Wade stifled the need and smiled instead. “Sure. You’ll need rest since you’ll have Bea to yourself tomorrow.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “I haven’t fallen asleep since those first two days. Will you please stop bringing it up?”

Wade grinned. “Where’s the fun in that?”

 

~*~

 

The early morning fliers determined that there was no flight near them. The guess was that the wild flight of the area they were closest to were having a territory dispute along a different border. That was significant because it was the difference between carefully traveling around the area or cutting straight through. Frankly, Peter was happy to go around and play it safe, but it was agreed upon that it would save them a lot of time to cut though.

The setup for such a venture was surprisingly detailed, but it was something they were prepared for. Peter had an exact position and instructions on when to speed up according to the whistled signals. The goal was for the entire group to stay in a thin line and to gain speed as a unit. They would push hard for a few hours until they hit the next safety zone.

Despite the importance of the situation, Wade still held to his agreement and allowed Peter to ride Bea alone. Wade moved to a karusson carrying the lightest cart and intended to ride it. Peter wasn’t sure if he was appreciative of riding alone or not given the situation.

Adrenaline pumped through Peter’s veins as they set up the line. The horses were two abreast and the karusson with their carts were positioned between each set of horses. On the outside were the paeyo who were not flying. On the horse beside Peter was Adrien. On a paeyo to Peter’s left was Aleksei. Ahead of them was Wade.

Peter sucked in a deep breath and swallowed through the tightness in his throat. Everyone seemed to think it would be fine, but the tension in the air was palpable. Time was of the essence and it seemed even the horses and dragons were ready for that.

“Don’t worry.” Adrien gave Peter a small reassuring smile. “I’ll help you through. Just watch me if you’re unsure of a signal.”

“Right. Yes.” Peter nodded a little too fast and convinced himself that he wasn’t about to lose his breakfast. He took a deep breath and ran his hands along Bea’s neck. Out of everyone in the crazy stunt they were about to pull, he trusted Bea the most to take care of him.

Shouts of “Ready!” echoed down the line and Peter adjusted his grip on the reigns, his legs tensing with nerves. Bea blew out a sharp breath as if to say that Peter was too wound up. He didn’t think he was wound up _enough._ A few of the other horses shifted around in anticipation.

A shrill whistle flew by overhead from a rider as they swooped down the line at a high speed. Peter urged Bea into a slow walk, keeping in time with those around him. After a few minutes, the rider zoomed past again with another whistle and everyone picked up speed. That continued to happen until they were at a full gallop. Peter bent low over Bea’s neck, his eyes squinting against the dust and his litham fluttering in the wind.

The paeyo ran with an odd snaking movement to aid their shorter legs, their wings tucked tight against their sides. Occasionally they would have a burst of speed that whipped them around rocks that protruded from the ground, but they were back in line in the blink of an eye. Their speed was terrifying.

A trilling whistle carried over the wind. Peter cut his eyes over to Adrien to confirm. The man signaled his hand to the right and Peter adjusted course with the rest of the line in a smooth solid movement. It easily helped them avoid the buttes up ahead.

There was a loud and exuberant shout that caught Peter’s attention. He looked over to see Wade standing up on the back of the karusson he was guiding, knees bent and his weight shifting constantly to keep him balanced, reigns in one hand while his other was splayed out as a counterbalance. He whooped again in excitement and a few men around him returned the call.

Peter focused back in front of him. The man was insane. They should be moving stealthily and as quietly as they could, not calling attention to themselves in the midst of performing senseless antics. Wade’s laughter carried over the sound of pounding hooves and Peter gritted his teeth at the sound. Could Wade take nothing seriously?

When the horses started to become winded, one of the riders on horseback twirled something over his head that sang a single tone which carried above the noise. That signaled to the overhead riders to give the next instructions and brought the pace down to a trot. They stayed there long enough for everyone to catch their breaths before picking up speed once more. That happened multiple times, and it pushed the horses to their limits.

At last, Peter saw green through the cloud of dust surrounding them. It seemed to give everyone a burst of energy in order to reach it. It felt like an eternity had passed, but Peter knew that wasn’t true. Still, it was an insane relief to hear the calls to slow down as they all finally made it into safe territory.

Once everyone was at a slow and languid walk in order to recover from the run, Peter found he was gasping for breath and his heart was nearly beating from his chest. He praised Bea for handling the push so well. Her flanks heaved under him as she breathed. The slow pace helped to cool down all the animals and riders. Peter was also grateful that it kicked up less dust, allowing him to move his litham aside and take deep breaths of cooler air.

“Ya did well for your first time in enemy territory!” Aleksei called, a wide grin on his face. He was sitting cross-legged in the middle of his paeyo’s back, not needing to distribute his weight as much at such a slow pace. “How ya feelin’?”

“Like we’re all crazy for doing that,” Peter blurted before he could stop himself. Everyone near him laughed.

Wade spun around on his karusson so that he was sitting backward and could face Peter. He unhooked his litham in order to show his wide grin. “A little danger makes you appreciate life!”

Peter shook his head, not even wanting to address that. “Just tell me we won’t have to do that again.”

“Eh,” Wade shrugged. “It depends. We must take every opportunity we can.” He tilted his head back to look at the sky. “We have to stay ahead of the clouds.”

Peter looked up at the clouds as well. It was all blue sky with thin and clumped dots of clouds in the distance. He didn’t really see what the danger was. Rain wasn’t anywhere in sight. Dragons, however, were everywhere.

With the new slower pace, everyone began to relax. Wade pulled out his necklace once more and started fiddling with it, a stupid grin on his face as he watched the colors glimmer in the stone. Peter looked away and tried to think about something else, but after such prolonged anxiety, he was tired. This left his thoughts to drift.

And they drifted to that damn kiss.

Every spare moment his mind had, he thought about it. Wade had been so damn confident that the kiss had been chaste and unimportant. However, arguing that would have given Peter away, so all he could do was stay silent. The problem was, the kiss _had_ been different.

Peter had had his fair share of dalliances in the past. Ladies in waiting that were tired of not being the center of attention, or servant girls who would take any noble they could just to fulfill a fantasy. Stolen kisses, roaming hands, and the occasional quick joining of bodies. They had been fun and pleasurable for the most part. Peter would describe them as… decidedly normal.

Wade was not normal. Wade’s touch had warmed Peter’s skin long after it was gone, and his lips had infused Peter’s with the undying sparks of a fire. Even still, Peter felt odd, as if the ghost of Wade’s lips lingered on him. The scholar in Peter begged to explore that more — to understand why it was so different.

Of course, he rebelled at that idea. Learning more meant _being_ with Wade in a way that was wrong. However, the practical side of him insisted that such things would happen eventually whether he wanted them to or not. Wouldn’t it be better to not hate it? It wasn’t as if Peter was becoming accustomed to murder. It was just another person.

A person who, for no apparent reason, seemed to give a damn about Peter. Perhaps that was where the feeling was coming from. He was just confused by someone who had no reason to care and did so anyways. It was a novelty and something that Peter had been craving for years. Eventually, that would fade.

Right?

If it didn’t… Well, that was something his future self could deal with. For now, he just needed to maintain control and keep Wade at a manageable distance.

Peter glanced over to find Wade leaned back against the karusson he was riding as if the dragon were nothing more than a moving chair. He held his necklace up the the light, grinning at it like it was the most precious thing in the world. Peter reattached his litham to make sure it covered his face.

Wade was a crazed idiot and his antics along with his childish love of a cheap gifted item absolutely did not whatsoever affect Peter in any way!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Different types of cumulus clouds can tell you when rain will occur within the next few days. This can change depending on sudden weather events, so watching the clouds and assessing the wind at all times is important.
> 
> You: So we're getting to the capital soon?!  
> Me: I wish. @.@ We will skip ahead to a city next chapter, so yay! \o/ I'm pretty sure we'll end up in the capital during chapter 12, tho.
> 
> So how about that kiss?! Aw, yeah. Progress! (I'm dying, actually. Who said slow burn was a good idea??? T.T)
> 
> Also featured this chapter: dragon surfing. :-D
> 
> I want you to know that I researched soooo muuuuch about soil pH levels and what kinds of plants grow in what types of levels. High acid soils create sweeter things like citrus, nightshades, and berries, while high alkaline create more earthy root vegetables. Most grains are in the mid ranges and can grow in a fairly wide margin. Floa Bral has acidic soil and Kocrax is so alkaline that things can barely grow. It's well beyond normal ranges. So these tidbits have already been sprinkled throughout the fic, but will continue to play a prominent role in the future.


	9. The Three Sisters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm a little late on uploading because I have a tooth growing into my jaw and lemmy tell you what, that _hurts._ Might be late on the next chapter, too, depending on if the pain lets me write or not. (Projected date of dental surgery? Never. I live in America and I'm poor. T.T)
> 
> Anywho, words I'll be referencing this chapter:
> 
>  **Information key:**  
>  Floa Bral: _Peter’s home country, known for its prosperous lands._  
>  Droana: _Capital of Floa Bral_  
>  Karusson: _Stocky, flightless dragons used for labor._  
>  Paeyo: _Dragons with naturally armored scales. Used primarily for long distance flights, battle, and protection of territory._  
>  Flight: _A group of dragons. The equivalent to a pack, pride, or herd._  
>  Mesa and butte: _Tableland, a hill or mountain with a flat top resembling a table. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Table_(landform)_

A few days later they approached the city of Yirie — a large mesa with a low wall built atop it to keep the green and fertile land from being washed away. Nothing stood on top of the mesa other than growing things. The city was built into the tall rock face itself.

Sandstone and limestone created sturdy and intricate buildings that crawled up from the base to the very top, utilizing every bit of space that it could. The city sank into the mesa as well, creating halls and homes and tunnels. It also built outward, extending the face of the mesa as needed to allow the city to grow.

Peter’s silence indicated his initial awe of the structure. Wade had discovered back during the war that everyone in Floa Bral seemed to think that Craxians lived in huts or slept in caves with dragons. Even if Peter had been prepared for giant structures by his book, it was nothing in comparison to the sight of it.

“It’s so… detailed…” Peter murmured.

“Sandstone is very sturdy. You can set intricate designs and not worry about it wearing or chipping with time. We have a lot of sand to work with, so why not make it nice to look at?” Wade chuckled to himself, amused by his own joke.

“Are there more cities like this?”

“None as big as The Three Sisters.” Wade pointed to a smudge in the distance. “There are three of these large mesa grouped near each other. They’re called Xolis, Yirie, and Zrauset. There are other smaller buttes in between used for various things — mostly livestock with a few homes there.”

“How is there so much room between the flight territories for this?”

“There’s not. The paeyo between The Three Sisters make up a flight that controls this territory. In order to keep it, there ends up being a lot of territory battles on the edges. We have to take control of what fertile land we can. We have none to spare.”

“Wade!” Aleksei brought his dragon closer. “Confirmed rain coming by tomorrow. We have some high ground decided on to stay during the flood.”

“Move everyone ahead and keep speed to make sure they get there on time. Send Adrian and Solo over. I’ll take them with me to Yirie.”

Aleksei smirked. “Still mad at Sergei?”

“I don’t need the problems he’ll cause,” Wade grumbled. Sergei’s insistent attempts to hit on Peter was not drama that Wade needed in Yirie.

“Ha! Maybe he’ll find a farmer to wear him out.”

“One can hope.”

With a laugh, Aleksei moved further down the line to relay orders.

“We’re visiting the city?” Peter asked.

“Mm. I have to stop in to make an appearance. It’s not often I get to come out this far and I’ve been gone for a while. They’ll need to complain to me about stuff, I’m sure.” That part of the job was always the worst.

“Well, a chief is supposed to listen to the needs of all the people under their rule, correct?”

“You don’t have to sound like such a snob about it.”

“And you don’t have to sound like such a whiny child.”

“Rude.” Not that Peter’s sassy comments really affected Wade. It was cute to banter in such a way. It made them feel like friends. It was also nice that Peter held Wade to higher standards as a leader than most others did. Peter expected Wade to be competent, and Wade found himself wanting to live up to those expectations.

“Isn’t Aleksei your guard? Why isn’t he going?” Peter asked.

“He needs to stay with his paeyo since this is technically enemy territory for them. We may all be on the same side, but the paeyo who claim this area don’t know that.”

“How long will we be staying there?”

“Hopefully no more than a couple of days. They’ll escort us to the troop to rejoin them once we’re done, but we’re all going to be slowed by the rain as it is.”

Peter looked up at the still blue sky with its lazily moving puffs of clouds. “How do you know it will rain?”

“When rain is a matter of life and death, you learn how to read the clouds. It will likely start raining late tonight. The wind is blowing it in.”

“There’s always wind.”

“And there’s always clouds, but they take on different forms.” Wade grinned. “Don’t worry. You’ll learn to read the clouds as well.”

“Sure…” Though Peter didn’t sound so certain of it.

The small group of riders broke off from the main troop sometime later to head towards Yirie. The size of the city was hard to grasp from a distance. Standing in the shadow of the tall and wide mesa was another matter entirely. People high above them peeked out from between the pillars that supported the various stairways to watch the group approach.

Peter’s head tilted far back, no longer able to see the top. “How do we get into the city?”

“We take the ramps.”

A large walkway made for horses and dragons alike spiraled and twisted around the city in various routes. They were the closest thing the city had that was akin to roads. Smaller karusson than what Peter was accustomed to pulled carts or carried people as they made their way along the ramps to their destinations. All of the walkways were closed in by large pillars and railings to prevent spooked karusson from knocking someone off the city and into a long plunge to the ground.

Peter’s body was tense with anticipation as he desperately tried to look at everything all at once. The further up the ramp they climbed, the more he stared at the vista spreading out in the distance. He asked questions about everything that he saw.

“Why are there bumps on the walkway?” Peter leaned to the side to stare at them.

“To prevent runaway carts from careening down the length of the ramp and to allow better footing in the rain.”

“What’s that trench leading to the city?” Peter pointed into the distance as they traveled into view of it.

“It collects rainwater. There’s a very large and complicated sand based filtration system under the city.”

“How does it work?”

“You’ll have to talk to the Minister in charge of development. Other people learn that sort of stuff so I don’t have to.”

“Is the whole inside of the mesa hollow?” he asked as they passed a large opening into one of the market districts.

“No. It would collapse under its own weight.”

“How do you know where you can tunnel, then?”

“Again, not my job.”

“Shouldn’t you know about these things?” Peter sounded frustrated.

“I have enough on my mind. I’ll find you someone to ask all your questions to.”

Peter hummed to himself as his eyes darted around, taking in the elaborate designs of the walls and pillars that they passed. He slowly began to notice other people’s eyes on him and his excitement drained a little. Wade pushed their bodies closer together and locked his arms before Peter could squirm away.

“You’ll need to be more of an active participant in our act while we’re here,” Wade murmured to make sure they weren’t overheard.

“What act?” Peter dropped his eyes to his Bea’s mane.

“The one where you like being married to me. There are a lot of traditionalists in this city that were against me taking a foreign wife. If they see trouble, it will be a problem.”

“And you tell me this now?”

“It wouldn’t make a difference when I told you this, hm?”

Peter huffed. “What do you want me to do?”

“Don’t shy away from me if I reach for you, and be polite to those you meet.”

“I’m not ignorant of politics,” Peter complained. “Are you going to take advantage of my inability to say no?”

“You wound me! I’ll stay within your stuffy boundaries.”

Peter quietly seethed and Wade figured that was better than most reactions. They eventually made it to the upper city where they could stable the horses. Peter argued about staying to brush down Bea himself, but they were strapped for time so Wade drug the man away and left it to the workers. They headed back out and made their way to the grand halls.

Once more, Peter was distracted by the designs trailing along the architecture — the patterns, scenery, historical moments, and the long spiraling forms of the gods. Peter didn’t know much about the The Great Dragons yet, but Wade intended to leave such spiritual learnings to the Priestesses that taught it.

As much as Wade wanted to let Peter wander and take in as much of the buildings, caverns, and tunnels as he liked, they were intercepted. Nomark [Tony Masters](http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Tony_Masters_\(Earth-616\)) knew that Wade was notorious for avoiding his duties as long as possible and made a beeline to their small group in an instant.

“Chief Wilson.” Nomark Masters, the head of Yirie, bobbed his head in the briefest of courtesies. “I know your time is limited. We should get started.”

Wade groaned. “You can’t wait until we get changed?”

“Absolutely not.”

Minister [Octavious](http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Otto_Octavius_\(Earth-616\)) stepped up as well and offered a much more honest bow of respect. “Chief Wilson, I am glad to see you back, safe and whole.” His eyes flicked to Peter. “And your companion…?”

“My wife.” Wade smirked and his chest filled a little with triumph. Otto had been a supporter of trade but had not believed that Wade could pull off the plan of surviving the war and taking a Brals wife.

Otto bowed once more. “It is an honor.”

Peter bowed in return, tight lipped and unsure of things. It gave Wade a wonderful idea on how to keep the man occupied while he was with the nomark. “Peter here is interested in how the layout works. Since you’re the minister in charge of all that, maybe you could show him around.”

That seemed to please Otto. He wanted Wade’s wife to be invested in the country and the people thereof. Getting the opportunity to use his own knowledge to help Peter fall in love with their way of life was something Otto would get excited about. He enjoyed sharing his passion and projects with people, but Wade could hardly ever keep up with the technical side of things and Otto’s touch of narcissism grated. Perhaps Peter and Otto would get along.

“I would love to answer any questions you may have.” Otto politely smiled at Peter.

Wade jerked his head at Solo and looked over at Peter. Solo nodded and stayed with Peter as Otto escorted him away. Peter cast only one uncertain look at Wade, but was easily distracted by Otto’s chatty ways. Wade watched until they had walked out of sight, a little sad at the loss of seeing Peter’s eyes light up with curiosity. It was cute when he was invested and awed. It tended to warm Wade’s chest, something he hadn’t felt in years.

A whack on Wade’s arm got his attention and he looked over to find a frowning Tony. “Check out your wife’s ass later. We have a lot to go over.”

Wade sighed and his shoulders drooped. “Lead the way.”

 

~*~

 

Hours later, Peter was still completely engrossed in the planning room. It was a spacious cavern that had miniature designs of everything the city used. There was a wax sculpture in the middle of the room depicting the mesa itself, with detailed notes on where new caverns could be carved out for future use. Along the walls were designs and working models of things like the trench, the filtration system, and the large watermill-like device that carried water up to higher levels.

Peter had been especially interested in the concept designs that weren’t complete. Otto spoke about them at length and in all the detail Peter wished without complaint. It was like a dream come true. Few people had matched Peter enthusiasm when he had requested learning more on a new topic. Otto possibly surpassed that enthusiasm.

“Next, would you like to see how the sandstone is set?” Otto asked.

“You don’t mind?”

“Not at all. I would much prefer you be well versed in the nature of the buildings you will inhabit.”

“Well when you say it like that…” Peter happily followed along, already absorbing everything Otto was saying about the cleaning and mixing process.

Solo stood off to the side and occasionally poked at the projects, but otherwise looked bored out of his mind. Peter felt a little bad about that, but not enough to stop him from following Otto around. Of all the people Peter had met in his life, Otto was the most interesting.

“Were you born in Yirie?” Peter asked.

“No, I was born in the capital. I was lucky to have had the best education there. It allowed me to gain apprenticeship under the previous Minister of Public Works for Yirie.”

“I apologize if it is rude for me to say, but none of the information I have talks about structured schooling in Kocrax.”

“Ah, yes.” Otto smirked. “School. We have heard of this process and find it flawed. Students may learn whatever they please in the great libraries and seek assistance from the Priestesses if they need. Every Priestess is highly educated, as they each copy as many of the books of knowledge as they can in their lifetime. Of course, the capital has the most books and scrolls to learn from as all new learnings are stored there first.”

“Are books safer in the capital?”

“In many ways. It is protected by those that would come to Kocrax from the sea by the Scoajan Mountains. The paeyo flights rarely fly far enough to encounter the city, but never far enough to encounter the library. The books are stored within the closest mountain, kept cool and protected from the light of the sun.”

“That sounds ideal,” Peter murmured.

“Precisely.”

Quick steps approached them before they had made it to the room where the workers created the sandstone bricks used throughout the city. Peter looked over to see Wade hurrying toward them with a grin. Peter’s shoulders drooped a little. Had he been with Otto that long already? He wanted to see more.

“Peter, my love! We need to wash up and change for dinner. There will be a feast.”

“Sure…” Peter slowed to a stop and allowed Wade to enter his space and drop a kiss on his cheek. He tried for a smile and hoped it was convincing.

“Perhaps we will have more time again later,” Otto graciously offered.

“I’d like that,” Peter said with sincerity.

“Chief. _Wilson_!” An angry voice snapped from down the corridor. They all turned to see a red faced Nomark Masters running after Wade.

“We gotta eat, Tony!” Wade defended and pulled Peter along, trying to escape down a corridor.

“You will set a time for tomorrow and you will swear by the gods to arrive without delay!” Nomark Masters snapped.

Wade heaved a sigh and held up a finger at Peter. “I’ll be quick.” He jogged back over to the nomark to settle the argument, leaving Peter alone in the hallway. Adrien had caught up with Solo and they were talking as well, likely about dinner plans.

Peter shook his head at Wade’s antics and walked over to the wall of the tunnel to trace his fingers along the designs set into the stone. There was no room or hallway or structure without art. It seemed every design had a purpose or a story to tell. Peter wondered at them as he walked along, fingertips trailing lightly along the smooth surface.

He was so engrossed in following the story unfolding with little characters near the top of the wall, that he didn’t notice the tunnel curving and bringing him further away from Wade. That shouldn’t have been a problem. The corridor was empty of anyone else except a lone woman. She turned out to be an issue.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she said, her voice full of contempt.

Peter’s head snapped over to her. She had a look on her face that he recognized. It was the same look that so many people at the palace in Droana had given him — one that said he was useless and unworthy of existence. Peter ignored her a turned to go back the other direction, but she darted forward, quicker that he would have expected, and placed herself in his path.

She had dark hair and a [patch](http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Callisto_\(Earth-616\)) over one eye. What skin was showing was covered in scars — thin slashes rather than the widespread burns of Wade’s skin. The woman looked hardened and angry, and that anger was now turned on Peter.

“What do you want?” Peter asked, calmly. It was easier to buy time if he could get them talking. Soon the others would notice him missing and intervene. Peter wasn’t a fan of getting harrassed and he wasn’t as adept in Kocrax politics to know the right thing to say.

“I want you and your _ways_ out of my country,” she sneered. “We do not want or need your changes. We will not conform to your elitist ways just so you can have our country dependent and under your boot!”

“I feel like you’re expecting a lot from a single person.” Peter resisted rolling his eyes. It wasn’t like he had any ability to make change in his position anyways.

“You are a _disease._ More will follow. I will not let you corrupt this country!”

It was a common reaction to foreigners in a country that rarely saw such people. Peter knew that from his talks with Harry about the man’s travels. Floa Bral had its own collection naysayers in regards to open borders and offering asylum, but they were a minority. Kocrax wouldn’t be that way, and Peter should have seen that coming.

“I don’t believe my presence is up to you.”

“You are weak,” she spat. Literally spat. Peter took a step back as it landed on the floor. “You will not survive this land, but _I_ will make sure of it.”

Peter narrowed his eyes. “If you are challenging me to a duel—”

She laughed at him as she pulled out a knife. “You think the world is so fair?” she mocked. “Poor rich little Brals without a weapon.”

Peter backed away, putting distance between them. He could fight, and he could duel well. It wouldn’t be the first time that someone tried to attack him at a disadvantage and away from the eyes of others. He’d learned how to deal with it as best he could.

Of course, his previous attacks had been about scaring him while others sought to revel in their dominance. None had used a weapon with the intent to kill.

Wasting no more time, the woman ran at him. He dodged it easily. She was unprepared for how quick and agile he had learned to be. He kicked, intending to land a blow to the ankle, which was a trick that had always served him well, but she dropped and rolled out of his way.

Peter backed up as she sprang back to her feet and ran at him again. She was prepared for him to dodge that time and slashed in a wide arc. He wasn’t stupid and knew an attack like that was coming. He dropped down and swept his arms up to knock the attacking arm up and darted in. He was confident that he had the advantage right up until her knee connected with his gut, knocking the air from him.

Alarm bells went off in his head and he scrambled back, desperately trying to suck in air. She pressed forward unrelentingly, so he turned and ran towards safety. If he could catch his breath, he could shout for Solo.

He was quick, but the mysterious woman was a force to be reckoned with, and he was compromised already. When she caught up, Peter dropped and twirled behind her. She spun around with a kick, and he barely dodged it in time. His ears were ringing and his blood was pounding and he was gasping for breath. She hardly looked affected. It seemed unfair.

All in all, she was right. Peter knew how to fight with a sword when dirty tricks were rarely used for fear of being humiliated at court. Perhaps if he had a rapier, he would have been able to easily keep her at bay. Perhaps if she didn’t have a knife, he would have stood a better chance. Perhaps if he’d had _any_ training at all in close hand combat, he wouldn’t be relying on close call dodges.

In his head, Peter cursed the Brals traditional training methods for noblemen thoroughly. What useless, tripe, unhelpful—

Peter barely missed the blade that time, and it scratched across his vest. She bared her teeth at him as he focused on her limbs, trying to see the next attack in time to dance out of the way. If he could get her arm over extended, then he could possibly jar her wrist and get her to drop it. It would leave him open for attack, but a grappling match was better than her with a weapon and him without.

Just as he was trying to form a plan for that, she was suddenly gone. Peter blinked and refocused on the world around him. The woman was being thrown into a wall, the knife clattering onto the floor. Loud staccato thumps of fists into flesh rang out before she dropped to the ground. A moment later, Wade had his hands wrapped around her throat.

Wade’s face was like nothing Peter had seen on the man. It was feral — his eyes glazed with rage. His breathing was harsh and spittle flew from his lips. The woman writhed and struggled against him, but he only removed one hand to pummel her for it. She was landing blows against him, but it was obvious he didn’t register them. He wasn’t fully there, not anymore. The only thing he responded to was when she tried to claw his eyes out.

It occurred to Peter that he was going to kill her. That really wouldn’t work out in their favor. Killing a malcontent only made things worse and would leave Peter with a terrible reputation from the start. Not to mention, Peter was highly against murder. He had to stop it.

Peter ran over and took hold of Wade’s wrists. He kept his voice loud enough to pierce through the obvious fog of Wade’s mind but calm and even so as not to provoke further attack. “Stop.”

There was no reaction, just Wade’s harsh breathing as the woman’s eyes rolled and her hands struggled to continue fighting. Peter tried again.

“Wade. _Stop_.”

At last, Wade blinked. He took a deep and shuddering breath before blinking many times more, as if trying to focus on what was before him, but not making sense of it. Mentally, he didn’t seem to be in the same room as everyone else, and Peter couldn’t help but wonder what it was Wade was seeing instead.

Peter ran one hand up Wade’s arm in a soothing manner and hoped it would help ground Wade to the current reality. “You have to stop.”

Wade’s fingers loosened and the women took a harsh and rattling breath. Peter guided Wade’s hands away as she coughed and scrambled further away from them. Wade stayed silent, his eyes darting around the floor but not settling on anything.

“Come on. Let’s go get ready,” Peter said in the same calm tone.

Abruptly, Wade leaned forward and undid the belt around the woman’s waist that contained the sheath for her knife. He stood up and retrieved the blade as well, placing it in its holder and gripping it tight in one hand. With his other hand, he took hold of Peter’s wrist and started walking them away.

Solo and Adrian fell into line, doing their best to keep up with Wade’s rapid strides. None of them spoke, and Wade seemed only focused on his breathing and destination. Peter wasn’t sure if anyone else attended to the woman afterwards. He tried to tell himself that such things mattered, but he honestly didn’t care for her well being after all of that.

Wade didn’t slow down until they reached the baths. Solo and Adrian took up a post outside to make sure they had the room they selected to themselves. There was one other person inside who was drying off with a towel, but one look at Wade’s face had them running from the room. Wade stood there quietly, just breathing, backlit by dim lights, surrounded by the smell of soap, with only the sounds of dripping water to be heard.

“Wade…” Peter kept his voice soft, but Wade still flinched at the sound. “I’m fine.”

The wrist Wade had been gripping was suddenly released. It throbbed as the blood flow returned to normal, but Peter ignored that. He walked up and placed light and careful fingers on Wade’s arm.

“Are you?” Peter asked, unsure of how to help Wade through whatever it was he was dealing with.

“This was my fault,” Wade whispered, the leather of the belt creaking as his hand clenched. “You were weaponless.”

“I can hold my own.”

Wade turned his head to look at Peter at last. “I don’t even know what your combat skills _are._ She could have killed you.”

“I grant you that I am better with a sword, but I’m not helpless,” Peter insisted.

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is the point?”

“I was stupid and I almost lost you.” Wade said it with such feeling, as if, somehow, he would have been truly upset if something had happened to Peter.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Peter promised.

Wade turned and wrapped Peter tight in his arms, keeping them pressed close together. Peter didn’t fight it for once and allowed Wade the moment he needed. After a time, Wade spoke so quietly it was almost lost to the drips echoing through the bathing chamber. “I don’t want to lose anyone else.”

Peter’s chest constricted. He pulled his hands up and wrapped them around Wade in return. Peter knew that feeling all too well. The least he could do was comfort Wade until the anxiety passed. Perhaps Peter was a little too prepared for his imminent demise in the dangerous lands of Kocrax, but Wade obviously wasn’t.

And even though Peter tried to tell himself that Wade’s reaction did not affect him, it was a lie. It was nice to be cared for. It was nice to see someone afraid for him. It was nice to _matter_ to someone.

“I promise I’ll teach you all of the close quarter combat tricks I know.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Peter said. He pulled back and Wade reluctantly allowed it. “C’mon. We need to clean up.”

Prior to being attacked, Peter had been fairly excited at the thought of visiting the baths. The chamber they were in had a large fountain looking thing in the middle with a long handled lever pump beside it which would cause a gush of water to pour into the fountain’s basin. Wade let Peter know that someone would be coming to wash their clothes as a courtesy to the chief. All they needed to worry about was themselves.

It was nice, being able to wash up so thoroughly. Peter felt a lot better once he’d rinsed away the grit that always seemed ingrained in his skin after so much travel. Not to mention, the water was _warm._ The system created to provide water to the mesa had a way to capture the heat of the day and keep the water heated where it was contained. Peter was a little in love with the whole process.

Wade’s movements became stiffer as he washed up, and Peter glanced over occasionally, noticing the bruises already blooming under Wade’s skin. The books Peter had read on Kocrax had always been appalled at the amount of untoward behavior the women had. It seemed brawling was one of them. Wade would likely be sore for days, though he hid that pain well.

Shelves were built into the walls and wrapped around the room. They held linen towels and the occasional robe, but one contained a stack of items meant for them. Peter eyed them with a bit of confusion. They were not the simple riding wear that he was used to seeing.

The clothing they changed into was more for leisure, he assumed. It was a large knee length tunic with wide legged pants underneath, brought to size by a drawstring around the waistline. The sleeves of the tunic were large, leading to a lot of hanging fabric. It was all made out of dark linen, which allowed everything to stay cool despite all the excess material that gathered around his body.

A wide, jewel bright sash completed the outfit and helped give it some shape. It wrapped around the torso multiple times and had an odd folding and tucking process that Peter could barely figure out in order to keep it in place. Wade had to help put it on, his hands smoothing over Peter’s waist multiple times to make sure it stayed where it should.

Wade stepped back and admired Peter in the outfit. “It suits you.”

Peter moved his arms around a little, feeling the fabric swish around him. “I’m not used to things being so loose.”

“You’ll appreciate it when it gets hot,” Wade promised as he dressed in such an outfit himself.

Lastly, Wade wrapped the belt he’d taken earlier around Peter’s waist, letting the knife hang along one slim hip. Peter watched Wade’s face at the [ring belt](http://renleather.com/images/Ring%20Belt%20Tie%20Illus.jpg) was folded into place. Wade was still feeling guilty about leaving Peter defenseless in a city that had something to prove. Despite that, Peter never expected to be given a weapon. He wasn’t sure if Wade was bothered by Peter now being in possession of such a thing or not.

Wade’s fingers trailed along the handle of the dagger, his eyes intent on it. “They’re going to test you during the feast.”

“Test me how?”

“They want to prove that you’re weak, and they’ll do or say anything to achieve that goal. It won’t be blatant. If it’s too noticeable, I have every right to kill them.”

Peter nodded. Though Kocrax was harsher in their ways, they were really no different from anyone else. Peter had grown up his entire life trying to prove he was worthy of respect. He was used to it.

Wade looked up and made eye contact, the blue of his eyes hard and sharp. “Shock them. Do whatever it takes to make them think twice about attacking you.”

That was new. Peter had always been told to keep his anger in check and not let his actions embarrass him. Now, he was being told to act out, to show off, to scare others. It was a strangely heady feeling that rushed through him at the thought of it.

“I can do that,” Peter assured.

“Good.” Wade reached out and threaded his fingers though Peter’s their palms pressed together. Peter didn’t attempt to pull away that time. “How good of an actor are you?”

“As good as I need to be.” Peter pushed his shoulders back, daring Wade to argue, but the man only smiled in response.

“Let’s do this.”

They arrived late to the banquet room and Peter looked around the large room in surprise. It wasn’t anything like what he was used to. In the middle of the large cavern was a long length of white limestone table with benches surrounding it. Nomark Masters and his wife sat at the head of the table. There was space beside them left for Peter and Wade to take their places.

Peter noticed that everyone was already sitting and none of them stood at Wade’s entrance. Other than Wade and the nomark’s places, there seemed to be no exact seating arrangement or dress code that Peter could tell. Every course of food was stacked on the tables already and people were loudly chatting and serving themselves, though all eyes were on them when they entered. Peter put on a relaxed smile and leaned a little further into Wade’s side.

There was no formal address or prayer given, there was only food being delivered to the table and young servants running around replacing pitchers for the drinks. Every servant had a band of metal around their throats. Peter held his tongue and promised himself to ask about it later. Wade focused on grabbing what food was near him on the giant platters and piling their plates high. Further away, Peter spotted Otto. They nodded to each other in greeting.

Peter did his best to stay relaxed and to contain any reactions he would have had to the people around him. He was used to the loud and brash antics of the soldiers, so that didn’t bother him as much. The surprises came with the women. Many of them wore the same outfits as the men, including the robes that only covered part of the chest and one shoulder. Peter had to keep his eyes firmly averted from the unabashed display of womanly flesh.

Children and infants were also in attendance, running around the area and screaming, occasionally crawling up on the table to steal bits of food. The infants nursed in the open and were often traded out with other women, to the point that Peter couldn’t discern what child belonged to whom. The men were not kept from such tasks, as they had babies shoved into their laps at random for them to bounce and entertain as the women talked.

Everyone talked to everyone, shouting across the room if need be. Every so often, people switched seats as if that was a normal affair. The complete chaos of the meal had Peter’s head spinning. He focused on Wade, which worked out for them. It made them appear to be more of a couple. For once, Peter didn’t so much mind everyone leaving them be so that they could “flirt.”

Peter attempted to converse with those nearest to him out of courtesy, but they seemed more focused on their meals. Nomark Masters wasn’t very talkative around Peter, but he was polite, as was his wife. It was almost enough to allow Peter to relax. Nobody seemed to be paying too much attention to him outside of curious glances.

“Are you enjoying the meal?” Mercedes Masters asked.

“Very much. I don’t think I’ve had anything that tasted quite like this.” It was true. The meat was roasted whole and glazed with honey, but there were other flavors to be had. All of the side dishes had an earthy taste, flavored with various types of spices. Peter was used to sweeter and sharper tastes in Floa Bral.

“The herbs that the meat is smoked in is very important.” She smiled, happy to provide bland small talk. “Also the length of time it is cooked in order to keep it tender.”

“It’s very good,” Peter said, using his utensil to cut up the last of the chunk of meat Wade had dumped on his plate. It was tender enough to fall apart easily.

And just like that, it happened.

“I see you have a dinner knife strapped to your hip,” someone said with a grin that was about as unfriendly as it could be. “I’m surprised you aren’t using it. Unless you just don’t want to cut your lip in front of strangers.”

A few people laughed and thumbed their owns weapons, happy to bring attention to their craftsmanship and larger size. Peter smiled as he pulled the dagger out and turned it side to side, letting the light catch it so that all close by could see it. He hoped someone recognized who it belonged to.

“Oh this?” Peter innocently asked. “I acquired this recently, in fact. It is well taken care of, and the blade is sturdy. Even the handle has obviously been treated with care. I can see a personalized touch to it. That makes me think it was important to the previous owner, wouldn’t you agree?”

Peter moved his gaze past the metal and made eye contact with everyone looking at him. Recognition burned in some of their eyes and Peter knew they were aware of the dagger’s owner. Good. He was going to put on a show.

“And where did you come across such a blade?” another voice asked, challenging Peter to admit what happened.

The knife twirled in Peter’s fingers and a few more people turned to look at his display. “Nowhere important.” He flipped the handle back into his palm and took a tight grip on it. “Besides, it’s just a dinner knife.”

The world went soundless as Peter allowed all the bottled up rage he kept so contained within him to burst free in an instant. Placing his free hand on the table, he stood up and brought the dagger down with all the force he could into the large hunk of meat in front of him. The bone cracked and shattered, the metal screeched as it sank into the platter and embedded into the limestone underneath.

With a grunt, Peter yanked the dagger free and finished cutting off the hunk of meat he’d just separated from the rest of the roast. Hooking the now warped tip of the blade into the food, he dragged it over to him and cut off a large slice in order to flop it down onto Wade’s plate with a loud slap. Everyone stared at him in silence.

“Careful of the bone pieces,” Peter said to Wade as he sat back down and cut off his own slice of meat. He tried very hard not to notice the dark and carnal look in Wade’s eyes.

Peter cut of a small chunk of meat and brought it to his lips with the dagger. As he chewed, he licked the blade clean, keeping eye contact with the man who had first spoken. Peter did not, in fact, cut himself during the process.

“Would you like a piece?” Peter spoke into the silence, pointing at the roast with the knife. “I don’t mind cutting you off some. I wouldn’t want you to hurt your weapons. They look perfectly new and decorative.”

The man scowled and his face turned red. It was an old jab that Peter had learned — insinuating that a man’s weapons were never used and thus calling him a novice without so many words. An insult hidden within a compliment was something Peter had long ago been forced to master.

“M’love…” Wade’s voice was deep and hoarse. Peter looked over to see the man practically on fire with contained lust. Pinched between his fingers was a morsel of food that dripped messily over his skin. “Try this. I think you’ll like it.”

Shoving down his initial reaction to run, Peter opened his mouth and allowed Wade to feed him. Telling himself that it was important for their act, Peter flicked his tongue out and gathered up the trails of savory liquid from Wade’s calloused fingers. Wade visibly shuddered at it.

“It is good to see you two getting along so well. You seem a good match.” Otto’s voice cut through the room and Peter looked over to see the man smiling and raising his glass to the pair.

Just like that, the magic spell of silence broke, and the din of conversation slowly rose to near deafening levels. The men who had attempted to taunt Peter studiously ignored him and spoke angrily amongst themselves. Peter smiled brightly at them whenever he managed to catch them looking his way.

The rest of the meal passed without incident and Peter quietly apologized to the Masters for ruining a dinner plate. They didn’t seem to mind. In fact, Mercedes patted him on the shoulder with a wink. Peter and Wade didn’t stay too much longer and left the feast early, much to Peter’s surprise. Wade didn’t seem the type to pass up such a large amount of food and wine.

Still, Wade seemed in a hurry to get them to their designated room. A low burning oil lamp was there to provide light against the dark stone walls, and their riding clothes sat in an orderly pile on top of a low table. Wade left Solo and Adrian around the bend of the short winding tunnel that blocked the room from view of the connecting hallway. There was only a heavy curtain of fabric hanging from the ceiling to offer any kind of replacement for a proper door.

Before Peter could say a thing, Wade was walking into his space with a purpose. Peter backed up until he was pressed against the cool stone wall. One of Wade’s hands wrapped around the back of Peter’s neck and the other settled on his hip. Peter’s throat went dry at the feeling of heat sinking into his skin at those contact points.

Wade’s face hovered close to Peter’s, his breath sharp and unsteady. Peter’s lips tingled once more at the memory of that kiss… It made him panic. He wasn’t sure what it meant, if anything. He didn’t want to know if there was a reason that Wade’s hands felt so natural on his skin or if his body was just used to Wade’s continuous proximity. Peter wasn’t ready to address any of that yet. He just wanted to go back to when life had rules that he knew and understood.

Tension radiated from Wade’s body and as close as he was, he kept moving closer still. His breath tickled along Peter’s chin and neck as his fingers slowly gripped the fabric that bunched at Peter’s waist. It was clear what Wade wanted and had been since Peter had slammed the knife into the table during dinner. Fear and something else Peter refused to identify sent a bolt up his spine.

Wade tilted his head. He was so close now. His thumb brushed along the smooth skin of Peter’s neck, raising the fine hairs in its wake. Peter swallowed hard and forced himself to speak.

“Don’t.” Peter’s voice was soft but firm.

There was a long moment’s pause before Wade’s head dropped to the side and rested on Peter’s shoulder. “You were perfect tonight.” His voice was deep but strained.

Peter stared up at the ceiling and kept his frame rigid, forcing his body to stay calm. “Wade…”

“Do you hate my attraction to you so much? Do you feel nothing in response?”

Closing his eyes, Peter took a deep breath. “We should sleep. You still have a meeting tomorrow.”

Wade turned his head and hot air rushed over Peter’s neck. Clenching his fists, Peter forced himself not to shiver at the feeling of it. After a long few moments Wade backed away. Peter opened his eyes to find Wade turning his head to avoid eye contact.

“I’m going to visit the privy…” He paused. “I’ll be a while.” With nothing more to say, he left.

Peter sucked in breath after breath, trying to reorient himself and not obsess over how much Wade had appreciated the violent anger that Peter had always so carefully kept under wraps. The very thing he believed would lead him astray one day, showing his true self to those around him, guaranteeing that he would be left alone with his bitterness against the world.

And yet… He had ended up married to the one person who not only accepted and understood such emotions, but craved them. And in return, Peter’s body had lit up with something he never thought he’d feel, given the circumstances. Something he refused to even allow himself to think about.

Swallowing hard, Peter’s slid his hand to the hard bulge hidden under the billowing layers of his clothing. If the both of them quietly sought pleasure from their own hands in dim and empty rooms that night, no one was the wiser.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you don’t know, limestone is actually pretty soft. It’s weird that way, sturdy but soft and easily susceptible to corrosion. Thus limestone in this story will be used for its accents since the stone is a very pretty white. It will also be used for flooring since it’s easy on the knees, as well as decorative items such as the table.
> 
> Callisto doesn't have a real name listed, so I did my best. XD
> 
> So much happened this chapter. Omg. Anywho.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed your first big chunk of Craxian culture! <3


	10. Of Gods and Men

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m going to be establishing religion this chapter. I _love_ studying religions, so I’ll be basing things on a bunch of various options and then building from scratch. Though Floa Bral will be discussed, most of my focus will be on Kocrax and their religious history throughout the fic.

Wade woke up early and told Peter to sleep in, which Peter _really_ didn’t mind since he was sleeping in an actual bed for the first time months. It had been decided that Wade would meet Nomark Masters as early in the morning as possible, seemingly to get everything out of the way. Their business wrapped up by the time Peter was dragging himself out of bed and getting dressed.

The curtain swished aside to reveal Wade and a plate of food. “I stole you some breakfast!” he announced cheerily.

“Oh…” Peter blinked at the courtesy, nonplussed. “Thank you.” He took the offering and started digging in.

“It started raining during the night.”

Peter raised his eyebrows, his mouth full of food. He couldn’t hear hear a thing, but then, they were far into the mesa. Perhaps so much stone blocked out the noise.

“So, do you want to see?”

Peter nodded and swallowed. “Can we go to the side with the trench?”

Wade grinned. “I thought you’d ask me that. We can. There’s a few other places I thought you might like to see as well. I’ll show you around.”

“Oh, sure…” Peter paused before taking another bite. “Are you finished with all your work?”

“As much as I can be. I’ll be taking home a decent amount of scrolls, but at least I can worry about those later.”

“Alright.” Peter finished off his meal quickly, eager to head out and explore. At least nobody would approach him if Wade was there.

“You need help with your sash?” Wade pointed at the wide length of fabric that still sat in a pile on the bed.

“Ah, yes, I can’t figure out how to wrap it so that it stays.” Peter frowned at it. Wade had made it look so simple previously.

“I’ll show you this time.”

Though Wade was focused on the lesson, he still stood close to Peter and his arms would occasionally brush Peter’s sides as they wrapped the cloth. It reminded Peter of the night before when Wade had been too close and so intense. He still wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He did his best to push it from his mind.

It took a few times, but Peter managed to get the hang of the sash. He could probably manage on his own the next time. “All Craxian clothing seems so baggy,” Peter said as he shook out the heap of fabric covering his arms.

“Think about it from my end.” Wade smirked. “Brals prefer it when their clothing is squeezing the life out of them.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “It’s not that tight.”

“Tell your women that.”

Well, Wade did have a point there. A woman’s corset could change her entire body shape and it was hard as a rock. Peter remembered the first time Gwen had worn one and how she’d complained about being unable to breathe as she waddled around.

Peter forcibly shoved that memory to the back of his mind and focused on the now. “And your women’s clothing?” Peter challenged, thinking of how revealing they had been.

“There’s not really a difference between men and women’s clothing. Everyone wears what they want.” He waved at the clothing between them. “This is just a style Tony likes, so he keeps it on hand for guests.”

“That’s… odd.”

“What’s _odd_ is that Brals have rules for _clothing_ of all things.” Wade said it in good humor, inviting Peter to laugh at the seeming absurdity of it. Peter just shook his head, in no mood to argue the point. Not that it mattered anyways. He lived in Kocrax now. He was bound by _their_ rules and not his own.

Soon, they were on their trek through the city. They cut through the wide tunnels that acted as streets to get to the side of the mesa that Peter most looked forward to seeing. Despite the inner tunnels being the shortest route, it still took a decent amount of time to traverse. The area was filled with other travelers as well, leaving Solo and Adrien to press close to them while they passed other people.

Not that it seemed to matter as much now that Peter was dressed in more common clothes. He blended in with everyone else, his smaller frame hidden by the baggy clothes. Since Wade wore nothing to dictate him as the Chief, nobody moved out of his way or showed any kind of respect. They went largely unnoticed.

“Do you not wish for your people to recognize you?” Peter asked.

“And end up not trusting a single word or action from them? I have enough of that to contend with in the capital. Everyone else can live their lives as normal until they need to know who I am.”

“That seems like it could cause you trouble.”

“Not really. Those that need to know, do. That’s all that matters.”

Peter shook his head. “A leader is supposed to inspire people. It’s hard to do that when you are nothing but an invisible figure to them.”

“And what shall I do instead? Print my face upon every coin in the province?” Wade scrunched up his nose. “I am not a face many desire to look upon.”

“Perhaps you should tour the cities more often and make speeches. You know, like _every_ leader from a king to a general does.”

“That’s boring,” Wade pouted.

Peter sighed. “How did you end up chief with this kind of attitude?”

“Because brute force is _much_ more important when leading a country, apparently.” Wade said it with an underlying tone of mockery, as if he didn’t believe in the system or leadership, but didn’t want anyone to know that. “ _The strongest leads_ ,” Wade quoted, “and all that.”

“There are different kinds of strength.”

“True enough.” Wade didn’t say much more on the subject.

The sound of rain and rushing water distracted Peter from the topic at hand. They must have been close to the edge of the mesa. He perked up and began focusing on the path ahead of them. The moisture in the air was noticeable, as was the wet stone from the various footsteps of travelers once they neared the gaping mouth of the tunnel.

The sky was overcast and gloomy, a heavy rain blocking out what was normally a very long view into the distance. Peter rushed forward to the railing of the ramps to look down at the ground below, uncaring of the rain pelting him. The sight was too fascinating to wait.

Below, the ground was covered in water as far as the eye could see, as if they were sitting in the middle of an impossibly large rushing river. Much of the brown flood water traveled in swirling paths down into the long trench where it ran directly into the mesa itself. It was a sight unlike anything Peter had ever seen before.

An oiled cloak was dropped onto Peter’s head and wrapped around him. He looked up to see Wade wearing one of his own, a fond smile stretching across his face. Peter looked away, not ready to deal with such emotions from Wade just yet.

“The waters are fast. You can be swept away in an instant if you’re standing in them,” Wade informed. “Even the dragons have a hard time keeping their footing.”

Lightning lit up the sky, sparkling across the rushing water in a ripple of dancing light. Thunder boomed after it and it felt closer than Peter had ever experienced, rattling his very bones with its strength. He pulled the cloak tighter around his body, taking a deep breath of the charged air.

“If there is only rain and no storm, then the dragons will fly in it,” Wade said, watching the clouds above them. “They use it to clean themselves of grit and bugs. However, the storms are dangerous and can strike them down — a single bolt of light and heat that will kill them in an instant.

“The old books say that such storms are what’s left of the ancient gods. The sky itself remembers the great dragons and their power. Their wings created wind, their roars thunder, and they breathed lightning to attack all that dared cross them. In their wake, the storms grew, and even after so many centuries, they remain.”

Peter had read about how Craxians worshiped dragons that looked unlike any that existed in the world. It was far different from the religion Peter had grown up with. Craxians did not pray to the gods for anything that a beast would not understand. Typically, they only prayed to the gods for the earth to provide what they needed, or to bless a union, or to oversee a birth, or — most importantly — to win a battle.

“So where are they now?” Peter asked.

“Well, if you ask a Priestess, she will tell you that they grew too large for the earth and took to the stars. However, there are some storms that I have lived through that made me believe they were in the midst of them.”

Peter looked over to study Wade. He didn’t seem like a particularly pious man, but every word he spoke was said with conviction. “Are you devoted to your religion?”

Wade shrugged. “I have reason to be.” He looked over at Peter. “Are you?”

“No.” Peter looked back across the water. “My family was.”

“So you are not devout to the gods of your nation?”

 _As if gods even exist,_ though Peter did not say that aloud. “My family’s lands held a shrine to Saint Benjamin. My uncle was named after him. Saint Benjamin was given the gift of healing, and he used it to serve the poor and the outcast. He was martyred the day he refused to attend to a prince’s twisted knee in favor of curing his servants of the plague. He was put to death that very day.”

“Your people have a weird way of choosing who you worship.”

A bitter smirk formed on Peter’s lips. “I believe all saints are born with back luck mixed with too much altruism… My uncle was much the same. He tried hard to live up to his namesake. He did whatever he could to see everyone in our lands safe and prosperous. He went so far as to take in the children of those who had lost their families to the war.”

Gwen’s bright smile and golden hair flashed before Peter’s eyes. She had grown up with Peter and he’d done everything he could to keep a smile on her face despite everything she’d gone through. Gwen had all but worshiped Uncle Ben for taking her in. She would help him with his charity work whenever she could.

“When the war took my parents, my aunt and uncle raised me as their own while pulling as many villagers inside the walls of our estate as they could. When we finally had to evacuate to the capital, we saw two farmhands covered in mud and blood running from soldiers.”

Peter could still see it, the look of stark terror on the young mens’ faces, one of them clutching his bleeding baby sister to his chest. The soldiers on horseback were gaining on them. They had no hope of outrunning them.

“My Uncle Ben took his horse and fought the soldiers, making sure they wouldn’t go after those of us trying to escape. The farmhands lived. My uncle did not. I watched him die.”

Sometimes, Peter could still feel the weight of Aunt May pressing him to the boards of the cart as he screamed to be let go and go after his uncle. He could vividly remember her sobbing and clutching at him, begging Peter not to leave — telling him that he was all she had left. It was true. They only had each other after that. Even Gwen had been left behind in an unmarked grave.

“The first thing I did when I reached Droana was demand an audience with the High Priest. I wanted to know how someone so good, someone who prayed so selflessly every night, someone who would risk everything to protect others, would be left so unprotected. We were a devout family. Why were we abandoned to the war?”

There was a tense silence before Wade asked, “What did he say?”

“That children cannot see corruption when surrounded by treats, and that those who go against the will of the gods will always be punished.”

Wade’s face was dark with anger. “I hope you punched him in the face.”

“I wish I had.” Peter turned to look at Wade. “And would your gods have protected or punished those who deserved it?”

“Of course not.”

Peter was rather stunned by that response. Wasn’t that the point of gods? “What?”

“Conflict and morals are created by humans themselves. That is our domain, not that of the gods. They see to only that which we can’t control, and they don’t cater to our needs first, but to the needs of the earth we need in order to live. Their judgement is far reaching and beyond the understanding of a few generations worth of memory.”

“So then… what? We are just left to our own devices?”

“How is that different from what you already believe?” Wade challenged.

Well, that was hard to argue. Peter had lost his faith long ago, so in the end, there wasn’t much difference. “Then how do you know that your dragon gods even exist?”

Whatever the response would have been, it was drown out by thunder so loud Peter could feel it in his heart. His ears rang with it and it rolled, deafeningly loud, into more and more booms and flashes of light. Around Peter, people stopped walking on the ramps in order to grab the nearest person and kiss them. That was all the warning Peter got.

Wade’s hand slid under Peter’s hood and cupped the back of his head. Warm scarred lips were on his own an instant later. The kiss lingered and moved in ways the previous one had not. Between the heavy beat of the thunder, the electric crackle of the air along his skin, and the paralyzing emotions of his past that Peter was trying to keep at bay, he was unable to fight Wade off.

Not that it was needed. As all consuming as the kiss had felt, it did not last long. Wade pulled back enough to look over Peter’s face, his own holding poorly concealed emotion. It took a few seconds to realize that the people around them were walking again and the thunder had stopped, leaving a faint ringing in Peter’s ears.

“Affection calms the anger of the gods,” Wade said. “When the storm grows too great, those in view of the sky share affection so that the gods may witness it.”

So that was why everyone stopped and kissed each other at random. Peter turned his face away, focusing on the water below him. He refused to let himself be bothered by the fact that such an incident happened after his question against the gods was asked. It was merely coincidence. That was all.

Wade’s hand slipped away from Peter’s neck and traveled down to join their fingers together. “Come. I’ll show you something else.”

They bagan walking along the ramp, heading higher up the mesa. As heavy as the rain was, the ramps were still busy, people going on about their lives as normal. Children ran around and splashed in the puddles caused by dips in the stonework. Karusson and their carts rattled by, unperturbed by the sheets of rain.

The places that they passed gave insight to life in Kocrax. Stairs, ladders, and smaller ramps led the way to clumps of homes for various civilians. Caverns were located near those places, allowing for the bits of city life that Peter was used to seeing — food stalls, vendors, laundry, weaving, excitable children, people tending to dragons or other various animals.

Peter watched a large lizard climb up the wet side of the mesa, weaving between all the structures that had been built into the stone. The lizard had a sturdy and flat piece of skin stretching between its legs, as if it was made to glide. It seemed most of the animals native to Kocrax were able to take to the air in some manner.

The largest carving that the mesa contained was of one of the dragon gods. It circled around the entirety of the city multiple times. It was long and skinny, like a snake, with multiple sets of wings along its body and a giant head that breathed lightning. Its legs were set close to its body in comparison, short and widely distanced with massive curving claws. Peter watched its body twine and curl along the stone as they walked.

“That is Arev,” Wade said when he noticed Peter watching it. “Of the three, he is the most fierce. His temper is quick, and he creates storms of destruction, but he is also the protector of all dragons. Each god is carved into one of the Three Sisters to thank them for blessing us with land capable of growing crops.”

“Who is on the other mesas?”

“Sakit is on Xolis. She is easily swayed by growing life and displays of love. If we offer enough to her, she will bless us with calm rains. If not, she will flood the earth until nothing is left and begin anew. Avarice and hate will cause her wrath.”

“You sound like you’re quoting.”

“I am.” Wade smirked. “We get told this a lot growing up. Arev and Sakit are lovers and they dance around each other for eternity, one balancing the other, the both of them influencing our very existence. It’s hard to live a day in Kocrax without them being mentioned by someone.”

Peter glanced at Wade and then back at the long body of the dragon god. “Then what about the third?”

“Ah. Ts’av wraps around Zrauset. Ts’av has no gender and they do not give life nor take it away. They are untouchable, living beyond stars and seeing to it that the sun rises and sets by the power of their breath alone. Were it not for Ts’av’s existence, Sakit could not create and Arev could not destroy.”

The way the rain water trickled down around the carvings made the stone dragon look as if it was moving. That amidst the stories Wade told and the constant hum of falling rain gave the whole scenario an almost ethereal feel. So focused was Peter that be barely noticed how far they had traveled. There were less people around and the winds were getting stronger, whipping at the edges of his cloak.

“Where are we going?” Peter had to raise his voice to be heard.

“We’re almost there!”

The higher they climbed the more Peter could feel the storm around them. It didn’t seem safe to be traveling closer to the clouds. He wondered if whatever it was Wade was so insistent on showing him could wait. The winds were becoming so great that the cloak did nothing to protect him, and he was sure that were it not for the railings of the ramp, he would have been swept off into the air long ago.

So high up, it was easy to see why people believed the storm was created by a god. People were not meant to be so close to such great forces. Just when Peter decided to protest Wade’s decision, he was pulled onto a staircase trailing off from the ramp. Soon after that, they ended up at a wide entrance to a cavern.

Most of the other caverns and tunnels were narrow at their opening to help keep the elements at bay. This one was open the entire length of the area. Rain sprayed inside of it with gusts of wind. Wade led the way further inside, to get them away from the pelting drops of water.

Peter pushed back the hood of his cloak once they were far enough in to only worry about a slight misting of rain. He shook his hair out and looked around. The room was dim as the area was only lit by the murky light of the sun hidden behind dark and heavy storm clouds. However, the air was thick with the smell of growing things.

A flash of lightning lit up the cavern and Peter could finally see where they were — a garden. All around him were trees and flowering bushes and trailing vines. They covered every inch of space from the walls to the ceiling. Trellises had been set into the stone to help give them more room to grow. Long vines hung from the ceiling around him with wide leaves attached.

When the light faded, Wade pulled an oil lamp from a trunk completely grown over with plantlife. He hung the lamp from the ceiling to leave the area in a soft glow. Peter turned slowly, gaping at the massive amount of growing things surrounding him. After traveling for so long seeing only dirt and sand, it was surreal to see such a place — like a room that magically led to a small chunk of another country.

“Crops are grown up top, but we still have a need for places to grow nuts and spices.” Wade walked over to Peter and pointed to the shadowed back corner. “We have a beehive here as well to provide honey. The staircase leading here has to be small to keep the karusson from climbing up and going after it.”

“It’s amazing,” Peter admitted. He ran his fingers over a thick leaf of a vine hanging near him and noticed the insects crawling along it, taking shelter from the storm. “Are all of these plants native to Kocrax?”

“Some, but not all.” Wade pointed out a few of the trees and flowers. “They’re helpful for dyes, but they have strict needs. We have to fertilize them with chicken droppings regularly, which are also imported.”

Wade excitedly pulled Peter over to a large shrub covered in small white and yellow flowers the kind Peter had never seen before. “This one, though, can be found occasionally in the greener areas of Swujan.”

The flowers were spread open and in the middle were long thin shoots like antenna. Wade pulled those from the flower and handed one to Peter. On the inside tip of the shoot was a drop of some kind of sticky liquid. Wade grinned and brought his to his lips.

“Try it.” He set the length of it into his mouth and sucked on it.

Slowly, Peter mimicked the action. There was a moment of bright sweetness with a hint of fragrance that quickly mellowed into something more savory before fading into an earthy taste. All in all, it tasted of honey, despite how short it lasted. Peter pulled it from his mouth, unable to stop the smile growing on his face.

“What is it?” Peter asked.

“[Honeysuckle](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Honeysuckle)! It’s not made of honey at all, and it tastes like that even without the bees.” Wade beamed like a child sharing a secret. “Do you like it?”

“I do.” Peter had never encountered a flower that tasted so sweet. He studied the shrub a little more carefully, interested in how its blooms managed to accomplish such a feat.

Wade pulled two more stems from another flower and split it between them. “During the blooming season, I would always sneak off as a child to find the closest honeysuckle bush near me before any of the other kids did. I wanted it all to myself.”

“And now that you’re chief, you plan on eating the whole shrub?” Peter smirked.

“There are perks to being chief!” Wade chuckled and sucked the drop of sweetness from the plant. Peter shook his head and did the same.

Lightning lit up the garden, throwing everything into stark relief and leaving an electric buzz in the air. It was beautiful, strange, and terrifying all at once. Peter was starting to realize that everything in Kocrax was that way. Thunder rolled as Wade moved to stand a little closer, plucking the little leafy strands from Peter’s fingers and tossing them into the wild foliage around them.

“I realize that someone attempting to kill you isn’t the best introduction to my country,” Wade said, looking awkward. “But I promise you we have more allies than we have enemies.”

“That’s how politics work.” Frankly, Peter had been prepared for hatred long ago. The attack seemed overdo in his mind. Not that he said that out loud. He didn’t want to upset others more than he already expected them to be with his presence.

“I will teach you how to better defend yourself against common attacks, but know that I will be there to protect you.”

“I believe you.” And Peter did. He had come to realize how important his presence was to Kocrax. Wade was determined to protect that at all costs. That was something Peter could understand and rely on.

“I don’t want you to think ill of—”

“Wade. I understand. My uncle taught me long ago that for every person afraid of change, there were ten people suffering without it, and sometimes both fear and need exist in the same person. I’m not going to make assumptions based on a single person’s fear.”

The relief was noticeable in Wade as his shoulders dropped and the air whooshed from him. “Honestly, I think they offered me the best person in Floa Bral and were too idiotic to realize it.”

Peter could feel the heat creeping up his neck and into his cheeks. He looked anywhere but at Wade. “I’m not all that unique. I’m just thinking rationally.”

“Which is a unique talent, I guarantee you. Even I struggle with it at times.”

That wasn’t something Peter expected Wade to admit to. It was like the man had a competition going in his own head to see how many ways he could surprise Peter. “Is there a reason you’re throwing out baseless flattery?”

“Baseless? No. Flattery? Yes.”

Peter took an unconscious step back. “Why are you so keen on pushing me?”

“I’m not pushing.”

“You are.”

“I’m doing what any husband would do.”

Peter scoffed and bit back a million harsh responses that wanted to burst from his mouth, if only because they all tried to escape him at once. “And what exactly is that?”

Lock him away like a delicate flower? Control every aspect of his life? Treat him like the commodity that he was? Forcibly fuck him every night?

“Try to make you happy,” Wade said, as if it was obvious.

Peter’s eyes snapped over to Wade’s and saw the truth of that statement. Peter gaped, unsure of how to even respond to that. What did it matter if Peter was happy? Why was that even a priority in a country so desperate for aid? Why did Wade care about the stranger he married that was so obstinately keeping them at arm's length?

The world lit up blindingly bright and thunder crashed loud enough that it echoed around the stone walls of the garden. Peter could hear nothing through the constant rumbling of noise. Wade strode purposefully forward, his hand coming up to cup Peter’s face, his other resting on Peter’s hip. The water that still clung to Peter’s hair gathered and dripped along scarred cheeks when it made contact. Heat burned through Peter’s skin, making the cold water clinging to him seem to fade into the background.

The booms of noise subsided, the gods satiated once more. Stil, Wade’s lips remained on Peter’s, their bodies stayed close to one another. Insects buzzed around them and the smell of wet earth filled Peter’s senses when he sucked in a breath. Wade refused to relent, kissing Peter like it was something important and necessary. Like it meant something.

And Peter allowed it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It felt so nice to write that kiss. SO NICE. T.T
> 
> Okay, so, more about the religion will be talked about in future chapters. If you have any questions about Kocrax's religion, please ask and I'll answer. This will help me solidify information I'll need to add in further on down the line.
> 
> As for Peter's religion, I based it sorta off a religion I created for a book I plotted to hell and back and then never wrote. XD It's on my to-do list. >.>' I didn't add details because they won't really be important, but I'll answer questions on his religion too if anyone is super interested.
> 
> I grew up with a honeysuckle bush right beside the carport at my home so I'm super excited to write about one at long last. XD


	11. Meet in the Middle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm falling behind! I need to write more and catch up! T.T

When Wade thought about Peter, the words superstitious, romantic, or relaxed were not what came to mind. Thus, it seemed like a miracle that Peter had allowed Wade to kiss him for so long in the garden. Turned out, it _was_ a miracle.

Despite Wade’s attempts to woo, Peter withdrew quite a bit after that, reverting to the tense, quiet, and standoffish person he’d been when they first met. Wade tried to give the man space, but after a week, it was starting to become noticeable. Wade attempted to keep up with the lessons and banter as they continued their travel, but even others were noticing how sullen Peter was.

Solo told people it was because Peter was attacked. Adrien thought Wade had angered Peter yet again. Both excuses were readily believed by the other soldiers, Wade just wished one of them were true. At least then he’d understand what happened and how to fix it. Even when Wade asked what was wrong, Peter would just deny it.

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m just tried,” he would say.

“If something is bothering you, it’d be better to talk about it.”

“I’m not bothered by anything.”

“It’s obvious you are. Everyone can see it. They’re talking about it.”

“That’s because they’re bored from monotonous travel and want to come up with drama to keep themselves entertained.”

Well, Wade couldn’t even deny that. They _were_ causing drama for entertainment, but that didn’t make everyone’s observation of Peter any less truthful. It was frustrating how easily Peter could shut down Wade’s attempts to get to the root of the issue.

The problem was, Wade was not known for his tact. So the best thing he could think of to do was push the issue and let Peter blow up. So one night in their tent, Wade casually offered a challenge for Peter to ride alone, since he so clearly desired it.

“What nonsense this time?” Peter asked as he folded up his vest.

“Kiss me.”

“No.” It was said calm and decisive, which was not at all the reaction Wade had hoped for.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not interested, and you’re using this as an excuse to entertain yourself.”

“I am not!” Wade protested. “I’m helping you!”

“I’m not an outlet for your sexual frustration.” Peter still sounded calm, but his movements were stiff and he wouldn’t look at Wade.

“We’re _married_!” Wade flailed.

Peter turned to give Wade a dark look. “So you _do_ intend to force me into something I don’t want.”

“Don’t turn me into the bad guy!” Wade huffed and began pacing. His fingers fidgeted with the necklace that he never took off. Perhaps he put too much into it. Maybe the merchant had just thrown it in or dropped it and Peter just didn’t want it and gave it to Wade as a joke. Maybe Peter was using it as some sort of way to bribe Wade to get his way. Maybe Wade was just an idiot after all.

“This is a political marriage. We can do what we must without complicating it further.”

“Complicating? I thought we were friends.”

“Friends don’t insist on kissing each other all the damn time.” Emotion crept into Peter’s voice, but he took a deep breath to calm himself back down. That just served to piss Wade off.

“Why do _I_ have to be punished for _your_ hangups?”

“Why are you so insistent on this? It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter!” Wade’s voice rose with his indignance.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to be bonded to someone who won’t love me!”

“Well, me either!” Peter finally looked angry, his posture stiff and aggressive.

“The difference is _I’m_ willing to!”

For a long moment Peter looked stricken. He turned his face away to hide the look. “You can’t just force yourself to—”

“Who says I’m forcing myself? What’s there not to like? What do I have to do to prove this to you? What mountain should I climb? What beast’s head should I bring you? How many of the people interested in you must I defeat in order to gain your favor?”

“Stop trying to solve all your problems with violence. You’re not an animal!” Peter paced a few steps and then paused, running a hand through his hair and sucking in a deep breath, trying to keep his temper.

Wade felt like he was burning up inside with how irritated he was. “Well obviously trying to be nice doesn’t work. I don’t know what you want!”

“Want? What does is matter? I don’t get to _want_ things anymore. You dictate my entire life now.”

“Says only you!” Wade huffed and his hands clenched and released over and over. He needed to go out and _punch_ something. “Why can’t you have goals now? What the in the stars is stopping you? Because it sure isn’t me! We’ve gone over this.”

“How would I even go about that? I don’t know what my life even _is_ now. And you keep pushing me to just fall into place without any time to orient myself—”

“I could give you every last day of my life and you still wouldn’t feel comfortable here because you’re not _dealing with your issues_!” Wade accused. He was completely and utterly fed up.

Peter turned beat red with fury. “So I’m just supposed to _get used_ to being a slave to someone who wants to use my body for their own entertainment?”

Wade gaped, so shocked and angered that he couldn’t force anything through for a moment. When he finally got control of himself, he felt cold rage spread from his chest across his body until his fingers felt numb. “I have _never_ treated you like that, and I never would,” he gritted out, his voice a low growl. “And if that’s what you really think of me, then I guess I can understand why you believe that _love_ isn’t a thing you are capable of feeling or reciprocating.”

The comment must have struck a nerve because Peter flinched and looked away, his body rigid and his breathing shallow. Silence stretched between them, but Peter didn’t speak. He didn’t attempt to rectify his words in any way. Wade’s mouth felt sour.

“Go fuck yourself,” Wade spat and stormed out of the tent. He needed to go running and he needed to beat something up. He could care less if Peter stayed in the tent or not. It had been a long time since Wade’s chest had felt so tight.

For the first night since their marriage, they slept apart.

 

~*~

 

For the next two days Wade avoided Peter at every possible turn. He rode by himself on a karusson and pouted at his necklace all day. During dinner he refused to even sit near Peter. At night he would sleep as far as he could on the other end of their mat.

The first day, Peter was filled self righteous anger and didn’t care. On the second day, he was consumed with guilt. Once the burn of his resentment tapered off, he could admit to himself what the source of his problems were: fear and loss. He’d lost everything in his life over and over again. Each time he thought life had taken everything, it managed to prove him wrong.

His parents, Gwen, his uncle, his aunt, his personal autonomy, and then his country. Each time Peter had been forced to keep on living, his life consumed with the next struggle, effectively distracting him from all that he no longer had. Even the marriage, rough Craxians, travel, and dragons had been their own kind of survival.

But eventually, he got used to it. That was the point when things went south, and it was all because of Wade. The man was too lax, his promises of Peter’s freedom too broad, and his heart lived on his sleeve. Wade was a simple man that had simple desires that were easily ascertained. For the first time in Peter’s life, he wasn’t struggling to survive in the midst of enemies, and considering his current position and locale, that made no sense to his understanding of reality.

Despite his confusion on the matter, Peter felt safe. And despite the harsh conditions of Kocrax, Peter was enjoying his chance to learn about and witness a world few ever would. The other soldiers still called him Peter the Haggler and treated him as a friend. Peter relaxed in the environment, which was something he hadn’t been able to do since he was a child.

And because life hated him, it caused all those undealt with emotions and trauma from his past to flood him in a giant tidal wave of anxiety. It reminded him that nothing in his life ever went well. The attack in Yirie proved that point, but Peter was too rational to turn his distrust on the people of Kocrax when they were in such dire straits.

Lacking anyone else to focus his blame for everything he was feeling, it landed on the one person dictating his current predicament: Chief Wade Wilson. It made perfect sense at the time to blame Wade for Peter’s emotional chaos. The man was stubborn, brash, and pushy. He was everything Peter had grown up being told not to be. That made Wade _bad._

The problem was, Wade was also sentimental, kind, and a complete crybaby. Seeing how hurt and upset he was over Peter’s remarks, but still not doing anything to hurt, ostracise, or punish was enough to snap Peter out of his own spiraling thoughts. Wade hadn’t really done anything to deserve the accusations Peter threw.

In fact, Wade being a walking contradiction of everything Peter had but hadn’t expected caused the problems in the first place. Peter had begun to _feel_ things for Wade, and perhaps he could have called it friendship had it not been for the—

Peter pursed his lips and tried not to think about how he could vividly remember exactly what Wade’s lips felt like but could no longer recall any details about the other stolen kisses throughout his life. He didn’t know how to handle what was happening. There was no guide to follow. It just _wasn’t done_ in Floa Bral. What was he supposed to do now?

To be honest, the only reason he was even able to sort out and realize his own emotional issues was thanks to Uncle Ben’s and Aunt May’s guidance in his younger years. That did not, however, install within him the capacity to _do_ something about that awareness. He didn’t know how to deal with his turmoil, who to turn to, and more importantly…

He didn’t know how to apologize to Wade. If Peter were being honest, he _really_ didn’t want to. It felt like giving too much power to Wade that could be used against him. That Wade would be able to accuse Peter of being emotional and weak in the future rather than having any rational arguments.

Of course that led back to that ever present emotion — fear of the unknown.

Peter sighed and ran a hand along Bea’s flank. “I don’t know if I’m impatient to get to the capital or if I want to never arrive.”

“Trouble in paradise?” Solo asked, moving his horse a little closer. He glanced over at someone over Peter’s shoulder. Peter turned to look and found Wade some distance away, flopped like dead weight on a karusson and muttering a riding song morosely. Peter winced.

“I may have ended up a little too upset…” Peter begrudgingly admitted.

“I’ve known Wade a long time,” Solo said with a hint of an amused glint in his eyes. “He’s a pretty straight forward person. If you explain something to him plain and simple, he’ll listen.”

“That’s the problem. It’s not all that plain or simple.” Peter frowned and plucked dirt from Bea’s mane.

“Perhaps it’s more complicated in your head than it is outloud.” That was too close to home to respond to. Solo considered Peter for a moment. “Do you like Kocrax?”

“It’s a rough place, but there’s much I’ve enjoyed about it.”

“I could say the same of my time in Floa Bral. What about you? How would you describe your life there?”

Much the same, if Peter were being honest. The threats in Droana were complex, social, and political but no less dangerous. Outside of the capital, Peter had personally bore witness to the horrors of war. That didn’t mean his country didn’t have its perks. Most of all… it held nostalgia.

“I don’t think it’s necessarily a bad thing to love and be proud of one’s nation,” Solo mused. “But I think that can blind some people from seeing the realities of other nations. More importantly, it can cause us to forget that we’re all rather alike when you get right down to it, dragons aside.”

“I think you’re the first person I’ve met here who admits to that.”

Solo’s eyes crinkled in a grin. “Soldiers must love their country in order to fight for it. Though it may not have been our war, we were still fighting for the needs of our country. Wade especially so. His life has been consumed with battles for the prosperity of not only our province but hopefully the others with time.”

Well, didn’t _that_ just make Peter feel extra guilty? Still, if he couldn’t find a way to handle his own position in life, there would be no way to deal with Wade. “Would it not bother you to be a wife?”

“I think perhaps the words ‘husband’ and ‘wife’ do not translate appropriately.”

Peter sighed. “Then what would you call it?”

“I would say you’re just a person looking to find your footing.”

“I’m married to the chief.”

“Aye, and that would make you a leader. You were a lord, weren’t you? Don’t lords have lands and people they need to lead?”

It was true. Had the war not happened, Peter would have eventually taken over. He would have had people dependent on him and his decisions. The difference was, he was aware of what was needed there, and would have had the guidance of many to help him make the right decisions. “I don’t know what’s expected of me here.”

“Well, the beauty of being married to the Chief is that you get to determine that for yourself and then act upon it.”

“Just like that?” Peter asked, disbelieving that people would so easily take to his decisions.

“Just like that,” Solo said with a laugh. “Remember that people are inherently stubborn. If you make a decision that is proved to be a good idea, people will follow. If it’s dumb, they’ll just ignore it.”

“That’s comforting…” Peter muttered.

“That’s life.”

That night Peter found Wade sitting off by himself, uninterested in talking to anyone as he ate his meal. Peter sighed and decided that it was about time he did something about that. He took his food and walked over to sit down next to Wade. At which point, Wade abruptly stood up, stuck his nose in the air, and walked off. Peter gaped, stunned at the absolute childish audacity. A few people around them snickered.

Peter left everything behind and scrambled to his feet to go after Wade. The larger man just picked up his pace, weaving through the tents and trying to lose Peter. That only annoyed Peter more. Where the hell was Wade going to go? They were in the middle of a desert!

“Would you stop?” Peter snapped, annoyed at how far they had already wandered from the cookfire.

“Go away!” Wade pouted as he kicked a pebble for good measure.

“We need to talk.”

“I don’t wanna talk to you!”

“Don’t be such a child!”

Wade whirled around, his hands balled up into fists. “Me?! I’m not the one freaking out and throwing accusations for no reason! I have no desire to hear anymore of your—”

Peter walked up and planted his feet, hands on his hips. “I’m scared! Is that what you want to hear from me? How many times should I admit to it before you’re satisfied?”

“You’re scared of everything!” Wade said, his arms flailing around him when he spoke.

“To survive at court, I had to know _everything._ Every single detail could be something important that I could use later. How people acted, their rank, their manner of speech, who they were close to, how they dressed themselves, all of it could be a matter of success or ruin. There were _rules_ and I learned them all. I _had_ to.”

Peter waved his arms at the world around them. “This world is a different set of rules, and I am doing my best to learn them, but you telling me that there are no rules isn’t helpful _or_ accurate! There are ways one is expected to act and react, how to address others, how to read their intent, and I need to know that!”

Wade made a noise of frustration. “I don’t even notice these things! How am I supposed to even attempt to break that down?”

“You could actually _think_ about it, for one!” Peter snapped. “Both our cultures nod their heads to indicate ‘yes’ but that isn’t the case in every country. Those are things I need to know!”

“But that’s something you learn with time,” Wade argued. “We did as kids, didn’t we?”

“Yes, and if a child does something wrong, they’re scolded, taught better, and it’s never thought of again. If I do something wrong, especially in my position, it could end up a matter of life and death. Telling me to just be polite is _not enough information_.”

“I don’t know how to teach you what you’re asking, but I can set you up with a Priestess, or the High Priestess, or even the Queen Mother herself if that would make you feel better.”

“It would, actually.”

Wade huffed, looking annoyed at how easily Peter had accepted that. “Then if someone teaches you all of that, will you finally be satisfied? Or will you continue to assume the worst of me?”

Peter pursed his lips and told himself that he needed to stop hiding from the discussion. “It was… unfair of me… to make those accusations…”

Wade scowled like that wasn’t enough of an apology, and Peter couldn’t fully blame the man. “You act like you’re the only one forced into this arrangement, but I am too. Taking a Brals wife wasn’t something I got to choose for myself. It’s what was _needed._ I didn’t grow up dreaming about the day I got to marry a stranger that hated me.”

“I realize that, but I also—”

“Didn’t think you’d marry a man. I know. You’ve made that abundantly clear.”

“I get that you grew up thinking it ridiculous that other countries are against such things, but could you, for a single moment, think about this from my end? I’ve spent my whole life abiding by the rules given to me in order to survive. That was just my normal life. I didn’t question it. That’s how everyone lived. Now I’m being presented with a situation in which I have to choose which morals I should keep based on my own arbitrary needs and hope that it doesn’t make me a bad person!”

“And what do you want me to say to that? You could easily debate with me the merits of different hierarchy leadership, but when it comes to anything to do with love or pleasures of the flesh, you immediately shut up and get angry. You can’t just say it’s against your morals and expect me to accept that. I _like_ being with men! I’m not supposed to be insulted at you calling me morally deplorable?”

“I’m not saying that!”

“You are, obviously, because you assume the worst of me. Or is that in reference to some other hangup I don’t know about?”

“This isn’t about _you_.”

“The attacks against me say otherwise!”

Peter crossed his arms, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath of the cool night air. “I felt pretty sure of who I was and what I wanted in life before you.”

There was a too long stretch of silence and Peter was too much of a coward to open his eyes and look at Wade’s expression. “And what do you want now?” Wade’s voice had gone soft and careful.

“I don’t know.”

“What do you _think_ you want?” And damn the man for sounding hopeful.

“I don’t know! Could you not push this for once?”

“I don’t push it a lot, but I’d like to remind you that we are quickly approaching Whaytho and your time allotment to ignore this is running out.”

“That makes it sound like a threat.” Peter’s fingers tightened their grip on his arms.

“It’s just a fact and one I’d like for you to face.”

Peter stayed quiet for a long time, still not ready to open his eyes and face reality. They were getting close to the capital. Soon, things would be set in motion. Eventually, Peter would have to participate in a ritual he actively did not want to think about. Would it be so bad if it ended up… not so bad?

“You know,” Wade’s voice sounded calm for the first time in days. “This is the point in your life where you could choose your own morals.”

“And if they’re wrong?”

“Give yourself more credit than that. You’re a smart person.”

“And if they don’t line up with yours?” Peter opened his eyes and gave Wade a hard look. “I have seen too much in my life to be okay with cold blooded murder.”

Wade sighed and scrubbed a hand over the top of his head. “If it is not for the sake of war, an official duel, to protect me or my family’s lives, or a punishment for an unforgivable crime, then I will not kill. Death only when needed. Alright?”

“Can you keep that promise when your mind is somewhere else? I saw what you looked like in Yirie. You were not yourself.”

“Then during those times I will leave it in your hands to bring me back, as you did then. Is that a responsibility you will take?”

There was a moment’s pause before Peter finally said, “Yes…” He took a deep breath and tried to force himself to relax more. Wade wasn’t being… irrational about Peter’s requests. He was compromising.

“I told you that I wanted to make this work.” Wade took a step forward and paused, eyeing Peter like he was prepared for the smaller man to make a run for it. “I want to meet you halfway. Can I hope for the same from you?”

It was suddenly a lot harder to breathe, but Peter nodded his head all the same. Of all the other changes in Peter’s life, one was more terrifying than the others. He didn’t really want to analyze why that was, or why his fear was so much in the face of Wade’s kindness or gentle touch.

“Peter… Why is it a bad thing to just… enjoy yourself?”

Peter swallowed hard and his voice was unusually shaky when he spoke next. “Why do you think I find it enjoyable?”

Wade reached out, slow and careful, and it took everything Peter had to stay still. Wade’s fingertips settled on Peter’s arms and slowly slid their way up the fabric to the capped shoulders. Peter shivered and blamed it on the cold. Wade stepped closer as his fingers moved to slide down Peter’s back, his large arms now boxing Peter in.

“You have a funny way of showing displeasure, then.” Wade leaned closer and Peter’s hands shot out and landed on his wide chest, keeping him at bay. “I won’t hurt you,” he promised.

 _It would be easier if you did._ _Then none of this would be in debate._ Peter knew better than to say that aloud.

“Why is this bad?” Wade asked, his voice going soft.

Peter’s fingers tightened against Wade’s chest. “I don’t know.” It was a big confession and it left Peter feeling shaky.

Wade’s head bent further down, bringing them close — too close — far too close. “I’m not going to judge you or mock you or cast you out. I’m never going to hate you. I’m never going to let anyone do those things in your presence. So if there are no souls here to shun us and only the gods to bless us, then why is it bad? Why be afraid of it? Of me?”

“I…” Peter couldn’t get enough air. It shuddered on its way in and did nothing to help catch his breath.

“Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if you stopped overthinking everything and just let it be.”

Stop thinking? That wasn’t very like him at all. In fact, none of his actions recently were like him. Mostly because he was never allowed to do them. So did that mean he was never able to be himself in Floa Bral? Then who exactly _was_ Peter Parker? And would fate pull the ultimate joke by revealing that answer via his current inconceivable circumstances?

Well, that was his kind of luck.

Wade’s nose touched his and he flinched back, his hands balling up into fists in Wade’s shirt, ready to push the man off at a moment’s notice. Wade’s large hands settled warm and claiming on his low back. Peter made eye contact and wasn’t sure if that was the best idea. Wade’s eyes burned in a way that Peter could feel in his gut.

“Close your eyes,” Wade whispered. “And don’t think.”

A breath later, Wade’s head was tilted and his lips were pressing against Peter’s. Of their own accord, Peter’s eyelids fluttered shut and his thoughts shattered. Wade’s lips moved, supple and coaxing, encouraging Peter’s to reciprocate. It was warm, soft, and… _good._

Unbidden, a tiny noise escaped Peter’s throat and Wade pulled their bodies closer in response. There was something tense and restrained about Wade, like he was caging wild desires for Peter’s benefit. A small part of Peter wondered what it would feel like if Wade let go. A thrill of fear and excitement shot up Peter’s spine.

Every time Wade would start to pull back from the kiss, he’d change his mind, as if deciding that he needed to get as much time in as possible while Peter was compliant. It was hard to argue that logic. Peter didn’t _want_ to argue that logic. He just wanted to… not think… for a little longer…

That night, under a clear and star filled sky, the gods were _very_ appeased.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In Peter’s defense, Wade’s moods flip like crazy. It’s hard to keep up and know what he’s thinking. XD
> 
> Understanding subtle nuance in other cultures is an important thing that I feel many take for granted. Learning how to give a greeting, when, and in what way depending on the level of authority can be very different in each culture. The nodding thing referenced is also a real thing. Some cultures nod their heads in order to say “no” which is just asking for a misunderstanding. Another great example is the non-committal Indian head bobble that doesn’t really have a one-to-one body language translation with anything in American culture (but I love it so much lol). Phrases and idioms can also vary wildly.
> 
> Being in a leadership position means having to learn these things in order to not offend the peoples you’re trying to peaceably work with. Figuring out what you need to know is much much harder because people take such little phrases and body language cues for granted.
> 
> I know not much happened this chapter, but they really needed to have this talk and come to terms with some issues before they could move forward. heh
> 
> The capital starts next chapter! Woo! \o/


	12. Whaytho

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since there can be multiple definitions, I want to just head off any confusion by saying that the Queen Mother in this instance is a socioreligious leadership role on par with the chief. Kind of like how the Pope and the King used to work hand in hand.
> 
>  **Information key:**  
>  Floa Bral: _Peter’s home country, known for its prosperous lands._  
>  Brals: _Citizens of Floa Bral_  
>  Bralish: _The language of Floa Bral_  
>  Droana: _Capital of Floa Bral_
> 
> Kocrax: _Wade’s home country, known for being the only nation with dragons._  
>  Craxians: _Citizens of Kocrax._  
>  Craxan: _The language of Kocrax (excluding dialects)._  
>  Swujan: _The province that Wade leads._  
>  Whaytho: _Current capital of Swujan province._
> 
> Paeyo: _Dragons with naturally armored scales. Used primarily for long distance flights, battle, and protection of territory._

Riding into the capital was met with great fanfare. Citizens filled the streets and waved colored ribbons around their heads to celebrate the return of the troops. The city of Whaytho was on flat ground and sprawled over a wide area. It was more like the cities Peter was used to, except that it lacked grass of any kind. Almost every bit of ground was covered in sandstone, though every house tended to have raised gardens with the occasional tree growing in giant pots.

The troop was to travel the main road to the palace and attend an official celebration. Many of them did not make it. A few men were pulled right off their horse and dragged away by their families. One man’s wife went so far as to stand completely nude on the side of the road. He abandoned his horse himself and ran straight at her. They barely made it off the street before she’d wrapped her legs around his waist and was riding him. Peter felt about ready to die from embarrassment over witnessing that.

Some men were greeted by wives carrying infants that they lovingly cradled to their chest with all the awe of a new father. Peter knew that the troops had been gone for many years, so he wasn’t quite sure how exactly that worked. Still, none of the men seemed to think it odd and readily claimed the children as their own.

Many citizens fell in line as they traveled and followed the troops to the palace. Some of the men pulled up children onto their horses or dragons so they could ride along. Overlapping songs were sung or chants were shouted that Peter couldn’t quite catch through the din of noise. In the long run, it wasn’t much different from what Peter had seen back in Droana when the Brals troops had returned from war. The only difference was that Peter was no longer watching from a distant window and was instead in the midst of the parade itself.

He watched the buildings as they passed, fascinated yet again by their structure. There seemed to be no consistent style of building. Sandstone allowed for ornate and complicated structures and the Craxians capitalized on that. Some buildings were multiple levels, some had pointed roofs and others had flat roofs containing gardens, seating, or gella presses. There were [domed buildings](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monolithic_dome) alongside [A-frame](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A-frame_house) houses next to squared or conical houses. It caused the city to have a feeling of organized chaos, which Peter supposed suited the personalities of the people therein.

It took quite some time to make it to the palace, as it was at the head of the city and nothing lay behind it. The palace itself had a lot of open air rooms and corridors with a mishmash of single, two story, and three story structures attached. Peter’s main reference book had been fascinated with the palace, so he knew that each chief added their own touch to commemorate their reign. Some upgraded or added designs, some demolished and built new, and some expanded in their own image.

Peter wondered what part had been Wade’s contribution.

The large courtyard of the palace was set up with decorations to celebrate the soldiers’ return. Closer to the entrance of the palace and standing on a platform was a group of people. Wade brought Bea around to head toward them while everyone else dismounted and attacked the food and drink set out. Wade helped Peter down and brought them up the few steps to the raised area. An old woman in a loose flowing outfit of various overlapping cloth and carrying a staff stepped towards them but was interrupted by a short blur of a person.

“Daddy!” the blur shrieked and launched itself into Wade’s arms.

The smile that lit up Wade’s face was unlike anything Peter had ever seen on the man. He twirled around, hugging a girl with wild hair that looked to be no older than eleven. The care, affection, and love on his face was pure and overwhelming. Peter couldn’t tear his eyes away from it.

“I knew you’d come home safe!” she declared. “But just in case, I prayed to Arev _all the time_.”

“I should have known!” Wade said in all seriousness. “I wondered why he followed me into battle every day. I’m shit at praying, but a person like you? Far too perfect to deny.”

The girl beamed and Wade kissed her cheek. Peter’s heart constricted. The whole scene was absolutely playing dirty in order to gain his favor. If he hadn’t known better, he’d accuse Wade of sending a message ahead of them to stage the whole act. But no, it was far too obvious how much the two of them loved each other, and Peter had a sneaking suspicion that Wade spoiled her a bit too much.

Wade had said his family was small and had made passing mention of a daughter, but nobody else stepped forward to embrace Wade and celebrate his return. All of the others on the platform looked as if they were there for ceremony’s sake. Peter began to wonder how small his family actually was.

The older woman stepped forward again, a smile on her face as she watched Wade and his daughter. “It is good to see you back safely, my Chief.”

Setting his daughter down, Wade gave the first respectful bow Peter had ever seen the man make. “It is good to be home, Queen Mother.”

“Did you find a wife?!” his daughter asked, full of excitement. Peter’s stomach twisted with nerves.

Wade grinned as he proudly waved his hand at Peter. “I introduce you to Lord Peter, my wife. Peter, this is my daughter Eleanor, but everyone calls her Ellie.”

If Ellie were surprised or bothered by the fact that Peter was a male foreigner, it didn’t show. She turned to Peter with a broad smile and gave him a formal welcome in carefully pronounced Bralish complete with a curtsey due to his station. Peter was more than a little stunned, but years of habit had him bowing and responding in kind.

“He’s a fast learner,” Wade said. “He does pretty well speaking Craxan.”

“He sounds like a wonderful choice, then,” Queen Mother said as she stepped up to Peter. She put her hands on his face and turned him this way and that to assess him. He stood rigid and allowed it, trying to keep his discomfort off his face for fear of insulting anyone.

“Are we going down to the feast?” Ellie asked, looking between all of them.

The Queen Mother smiled. “Your father has some things to address immediately. The feast will continue for some time. He can visit later.”

Wade crumpled in on himself and pouted. Nobody seemed all that sympathetic to him, even Ellie. She turned back to look at the Queen Mother.

“Are you going to the meeting as well?”

“Of course,” she said, releasing Peter’s face at last and looking satisfied. “We have years worth of information to catch up on.”

“Ellie,” Wade said. “While the city is distracted, why don’t you show Peter around?”

That seemed to excite her to no end. “Really?!”

“Really. We can do all the speeches and shit later when people aren’t so caught up with seeing everyone again.”

Peter looked out off the platform to the citizens beyond. All of the soldiers were surrounded by family and friends, so many of them crying. Some were in joy over seeing their loved ones again, others were in sorrow after being told about their loss. Emotion was worn full force and blatant, without shame or fear. Everyone was speaking loudly, unbothered by others overhearing their tales or heartfelt concerns. It was a far cry different from the reserved culture that Peter had come from.

Ellie didn’t seem to care much for Peter’s distraction. She took hold of his wrist and started leading him away. Peter gave her a surprised look and turned to the others, but they just smiled at him as if Ellie’s actions were perfectly normal. So yet again, Peter held his tongue and followed along without protest. Despite being curious as to what Wade needed to be briefed on (and if that had something to do with Peter’s potential acceptance in the city), he truly did want to see more of what the city contained in order to get a better understanding of it.

“Since the celebration is happening, we probably won’t be bothered,” Ellie said as she hurried them away from the palace and into the wide city streets. “This is a good opportunity.”

“Of course.” Peter wasn’t quite sure how to talk to her. He didn’t know what social standards dictated when talking to someone so young and of the opposite gender, while also holding rank as the chief’s daughter. Not to mention, they were now technically related.

“I’ve been practicing Bralish with the Priestesses and talked to Queen Mother a lot about what Floa Bral is like. So if you have any questions, you should definitely ask me.”

“Oh, um…” It was cute how hard she was trying, but Peter didn’t feel in any way comfortable asking her things. She kept glancing back at him with expectant eyes, so Peter quickly thought up a generic question. “How does the city handle the floods when it rains?”

Ellie happily launched into an explanation. “We don’t get as bad of floods because we’re so close to the mountain ranges. We’re on high ground. But the water can wash away the dirt since there’s nothing to keep it in place, so we have to find ways to fix that. Paving everything helps, and we dug out a river as well that travels on the east side of town. We have to maintain it so it doesn’t wash out the sides and get bigger.”

“You dug a _river_?”

“Well, it took a few generations.”

Peter supposed that living in such a world her whole life made it seem normal, so Ellie couldn’t understand what an accomplishment that was for her people. Peter wouldn’t have even said something of that sort was possible prior to meeting the Craxians. They were stubborn enough to come up with such a solution and actually execute it.

They traveled through the city and its variety of buildings at quite a speed. People still lingered in the streets and children ran past or gawked at Peter’s strange clothing, but Peter and Ellie didn’t linger. Ellie pulled them purposefully towards a tall spiraling tower. Such towers were randomly placed throughout the city in a pattern that Peter couldn’t discern from the ground.

When they arrived at the base of the closest tower, the men posted inside smiled and nodded at Ellie indulgently. The men were older and weathered, some permanently injured, and sat at various windows overlooking the city at different heights of the tower. Ellie hurried the two of them up the spiraling stairs as if the incline didn’t bother her at all. By the time she came to a stop, Peter’s legs were burning and he was gasping for breath. He cursed childhood energy levels.

They had stopped at a window that wasn’t currently manned. Peter leaned against the stone wall as he sucked in breath after breath of air. Ellie went over to the window and immediately launched into the next part of her explanatory tour.

“So there’s the palace and you can see the mountains behind it.”

Peter moved to a better position so that he could see. The palace looked grand from such a high angle. It was certainly a sight to behold, especially with the backdrop of the large mountain range in the distance. There was a lot of land between the palace and the mountains, all of it bare of any homes or structures and covered in green.

“The spot in between is where we grow crops and raise cattle. Since we can’t spare green land, we never build on it.” She pointed off to the west where the earth slowly morphed into brown. “We take a lot of farm animals to the northwest side of the city in hopes that they’ll help fertilize the soil with time.”

Before Peter could even gather his words enough to ask a question, Ellie pulled them higher still and to a window facing the opposite direction. “So we mostly only build to the south or the east. You can see the river from here.”

And Peter could. There were a few bridges widely spaced that traveled across it and the city expanded beyond with smaller homes and fewer tall towers. There were flatbed boats on the river using the water to haul goods from place to place. Various structures crawling with men, tiny from such a distance, were dotted along the river’s edges.

“Are there fish in the river?” Peter asked, having recovered enough to finally speak.

“No, the water is too tainted and what does live in it isn’t good to eat. The scaffolding by the edges are where they’re reinforcing the banks.”

Peter looked over and studied Ellie as she gazed out the window. “You know a lot about your city.”

“I have to!” She puffed her chest out in pride. “I have to prove myself worthy to be the successor.”

That… wasn’t the answer Peter was expecting. Ellie thought she would take over from her father? Wade had said that those worthy of the succeeding would, and Ellie seemed to take that seriously, perhaps more so than her father did even, but she was… Well, she was a _girl._

Peter wasn’t sure if a woman could hold a position of power in Kocrax, but either way, it wasn’t his place to disillusion her. He smiled politely in response. “Well, you are very well educated, and I appreciate you showing me around.”

She tilted her head and studied him for a bit. “Queen Mother said that if my dad brought back a woman, she would be demure and might never speak except in unnecessarily polite words. Do all people in Floa Bral act so polite without reason?”

Ellie was full of surprises, and they continued to leave Peter more and more speechless. “Um… I wouldn’t call myself overly polite or demure…”

“So it can get worse?” Ellie’s eyes widened.

“Ah… Why do you think I’m overly polite?”

“Why do you think you’re not?”

“I’m just trying to be respectful.” Peter was starting to feel defensive and tried to shove the feeling aside. Ellie was just a child, after all.

“Hmm…” She studied him a tad more critically then. “What do you think of my dad?”

 _Great. I’m getting interrogated by the man’s daughter to see if I’m a good fit._ It wasn’t great timing as he was still coming to terms with his position in life. “I think… he is… a nice person…”

Ellie smirked like she could see straight through Peter’s evasion. “I’ve been learning with the Priestesses since my dad left for war. I’ve focused a lot on language and what we know about other countries. We don’t have a lot of books on the subjects, but I know it’s more than others have of us.”

“Well…” Peter wasn’t sure what she was getting at. “If you have any questions about Floa Bral, I would be happy to answer what I can.”

“The same for you. Do you have any questions about Kocrax? Or its people? Or my dad?”

Many. Perhaps too many. Peter looked out the window and thought over his response. He didn’t know how to navigate the conversation. It was precisely one of the things he’d argued with Wade about. The rules were changed because the society had changed. On top of that, Ellie was young, but educated, and far different from the soldiers Peter had been traveling with for so long.

“I will understand this country better with time. It hasn’t been that long since I arrived.”

“Standing around and waiting for information to hit you in the face isn’t nearly as helpful as seeking the knowledge yourself.” Ellie said it like she was quoting the phrase from a teacher who’d scolded her on it. It caused a smile to tug at Peter’s lips.

“You are very different from your father.” The words slipped out before Peter could stop them, and he internally cursed himself for it. Thankfully, Ellie just found the statement funny and giggled at it.

“At the core, we’re all defined by the same thing. The country shapes up, and then we grow around that. What shapes Floa Bral at its core?”

 _Pettiness._ Peter bit his tongue on saying that aloud. “That is a philosophical question, for certain. What shapes Kocrax?” he challenged in return, looking over to catch her eyes.

“That’s easy,” Ellie said with a confident grin. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

Taking his wrist once more, Ellie took off back down the stairs to drag Peter to their next destination. She brought them to the edge of city where a large stone dome was located. Attached next to it was a giant metal cage twice as wide as the dome, but taller, reaching up into the sky almost as tall as the towers were.

Peter’s stomach dropped. He could imagine only one use for a cage that large and wasn’t prepared to face it. Still, it should be safe. They wouldn’t let the chief’s daughter get anywhere close to aggressive dragons… Right?

The bars of the cage were thick, nearly so large that Peter’s hand wouldn’t wrap around it if he tried. It must have taken a lot of mining and blacksmithing to create such a thing. Ellie let Peter know it had been in use for generations, which only made it that much more impressive. The Craxians could achieve wonders when they set their minds to it.

Ellie brought them up to a large device in front of a [portcullis](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Portcullis) which was acting as an entrance to the cage. Nobody was around, so she left Peter to bend double in order to catch his breath and lament his burning legs while she walked over to the [winch](http://l7.alamy.com/zooms/803aa9a5c80c48e1800f7cf1afab95f0/old-hand-winch-with-worm-mechanism-and-hawser-brtdc6.jpg) and cranked it herself. The portcullis inched its way upward with a loud scraping of metal. Once it was high enough to barely fit under, she locked it into place.

She walked over to a latched chest, pulled out a bucket and filled it with large chunks of jerky, and then grabbed a spear from a collection leaned up against the side of the sandstone building.

“Come on! Grab a spear that’s your height.” Ellie hurried over and ducked under the bars. Peter walked up hesitantly, not at all pleased with the idea of walking into a giant cage.

“Are you sure we should be here?”

“Don’t worry! I’m a trainer.” She grinned mischievously. “Are you going to be outdone by a kid?”

As much as Peter tried not to give in to the goading, it stung his pride. He snatched up a spear and then ducked low to make his way inside. They headed further in, enough so that Peter could see a cave like opening into the large stone dome. The sunlight glinted off a pair of eyes within the shadowed interior. Peter’s throat dried up.

His survival instinct screamed at him to leave immediately, but he stood frozen to the spot. He couldn’t just leave Ellie behind. She was only a child. She didn’t understand the danger she was in. This was made even more clear when she set down the bucket, hooked her fingers into her mouth, and blew an ear piercing whistle.

There was a screeching response that Peter recognized as a paeyo call. No sooner had he made the connection than three of them burst from the dome and into the cage. They were smaller than Peter was used to, but they still reached hip height. Their wings were outspread and their mouths hung open, drool dripping onto the dirt below them as they paced around the intruders. Peter took a few panicked steps back, gripping his spear tight enough that his knuckles went white.

“They see us as a threat because they haven’t connected with the rest of the flight yet, only their family unit.” Ellie was calm as she said it, her eyes trained on the dragons moving around her. “We have to train that out of them.”

One of the paeyo darted forward and snapped its jaws before scrambling back. It didn’t get all that close, but Peter still flinched. Ellie remained immobile as she stared it down. Another one beat its wings, kicking up sand and dirt while it screeched. The third lashed its tail constantly as it paced.

“They drool to protect their mouths from the toxic spit they produce.” Ellie continued talking as if three very angry dragons almost her height weren’t trying to attack her. “But since they’re domesticated, they don’t produce it. They haven’t figured that out, though, because they’re still babies. They’ll cough when they try it.”

She pointed her spear at one. It reared back on its hind legs, stretched its neck out and coughed. Nothing happened, it just continued to drool and flap its wings to keep balance. It scampered back and dropped onto all fours in order to prowl around again.

“They…” Peter swallowed and tried harder to find his voice. “They seem agitated. We should leave them be.”

Ellie didn’t move. “At the core of Kocrax is dragons. They owned this land, and humans moved into it. In order to survive in a land of dragons, you have to learn to live by their rules.” She waved her spear at the three dragons and they scampered around her, trying their best to intimidate her in return. “If you understand dragons, you understand the people who live among them.”

“We can’t talk about this elsewhere?” Peter snapped, his fear causing him to lash out.

Ellie snickered. “No. You need to learn how to act like a dragon.”

In so saying, Ellie planted her feet wide apart, opened her arms wide, and slammed the butt of the spear into the ground. She leaned forward, her knees bent to show she was prepared to attack at any moment. Taking a deep breath she opened her mouth and angrily screamed with all the force she could muster.

The three dragons scrambled back, ducking their heads close to the ground and making clipped noises of alarm. Their wings tucked and unfurled over and over as they gathered closer together, finding strength in numbers. Still, they no longer looked ready to attack at a moment’s notice. Ellie calmly stood back up.

“If I run, they see me as prey. If I do not act, it builds their confidence in overpowering me. If I submit, then they are in control. If I attack, then I am a threat.”

Peter shook his head. “Then that leaves you no options.”

“It does!” Ellie bent down and picked up a piece of the jerky from the bucket. She tossed it at them and they scattered from it before cautiously inching forward and sniffing at the meat, leery of the offering she’d given them. “I show them that I am strong, that I am their equal, and that I will not abide by them attacking me.”

“That just leaves you in a standoff.”

“No, it leaves us on the same ground. I do not wish to dominate them, I wish to befriend them. If they do not see _me_ as an enemy, then I will not act as one. I can offer them something if they offer me something in return.”

That was insane. Was she hinting that the key to dragon taming was becoming partners with them? “If you do not control them, how do you know you’re safe?”

“If you are controlled, then you are at the whims of your owner. There is no way to forever guarantee your safety, even if you do everything right. You are at their mercy. If you _do_ believe in your safety, then your life revolves around subjugation and you cannot rise above that.”

“That’s anarchy.”

“It’s slavery.”

One of the dragons finally grabbed the piece of meat and began awkwardly chewing on it. The others immediately became interested in the treat and turned to eye Ellie and the bucket that sat beside her. She stabbed the pointed end of the spear into one of the jerky chunks and held it out. That was too high of hurdle and the dragons backed away uncertainty. Ellie remained in place, maintaining a calm patience in the face of the dragons’ skittishness.

“You do not make an accord with a horse. You _own_ a horse,” Peter argued.

“The horse would likely see things differently,” Ellie giggled. “But dragons are not horses. They speak a different language, and we have to learn that language. They are simple and not overwhelmed by the pettiness and hubris that humans suffer from, but that doesn’t mean they are dumb.”

One of the dragons sniffed at the speared meat but jerked back before taking it, as if Ellie planned to trick them somehow. Peter watched the scene before him with conflicting emotions. They were acting just like any other wild animal. There was no reasoning with it.

“They’re young,” Ellie said, as if reading his mind. “They have a lot to learn, as well. We just have to be patient with them.”

“If you maintain that you are equals, then if you do something the dragon doesn’t like, it will attack you. It is stronger and more dangerous.”

“I’m sure there were many peers in your country that did things you didn’t like. Did you kill them all?”

“Of course not!”

“Did you find ways to show your anger, even if you didn’t blatantly attack them?”

Well… He had. That was the only retaliation Peter was able to use. Backhanded insults, mysterious accidents, and subtle humiliation had becomes things he excelled in. Still, that wasn’t something that a simplistic dragon would be capable of.

“Aleksei once upset Rhino — his dragon — and for the whole day he kept getting his legs swept out from under him ‘by accident’ whenever Rhino flipped his tail. I’ve seen a paeyo break things on purpose, refuse to walk, drool on someone’s bed, and steal food. I’ve also seen a paeyo protect their riders from enemies at all costs because they know that their rider would do the same.”

One of the dragons at last snatched the treat from the spear with lightning speed and started chomping away at it. The third dragon watched in fascination, jealous and wary at the same time. Ellie grinned as she pulled the spear back to her side.

“They’re dangerous,” Peter said, voice soft.

“So are humans.” She winked at him over her shoulder before turning back to the young dragons. “If both dragons and humans are dangerous, then is it only dragons that you’re afraid of?”

Peter’s stomach flipped as his mind ran through the whole conversation and put it in context with his current position in life. He felt like a slave, like an owned necessity, while at the same time he fought to maintain the status quo that kept him in that place, all because he didn’t understand how to live outside of it. To be seen as an equal, to respond in kind to everything he received from others… that was a freedom he didn’t know how to handle.

“Do you plan to stay in Kocrax?” Ellie asked.

“Of course…” Peter could understand why she would ask such a question, but she didn’t say it with any kind of judgement like he expected.

“Then you need to learn how to live here, and that means learning how to understand dragons.”

She backed up until she was standing beside Peter. The movement caught the attention of the dragons which in turn allowed them to focus on Peter. They spread their wings again, challenging Peter in the same way they had Ellie. Peter went to take a step back, but Ellie planted her hand in the center of his back and shoved him forward. He stumbled and the dragons shrieked and scampered around, coughing and snapping at the air.

“Make yourself look as big as possible,” Ellie said, raising her voice over the noise the dragons were making. It also helped her be heard over Peter’s pulse hammering in his ears. She was trying to feed him to dragons. “Mimic their posture, give back what they are giving you.”

Peter gripped his spear in front of him, his palms sweating and his chest tight. Fear sang along his veins, and it seemed the dragons could smell it on him. They pushed forward faster than they had with Ellie, snapping at him and making him take a step back. The point of Ellie’s spear dug into his spine.

“It’s dangerous to back away,” she informed. “You have to show them you are equals. If you fail now, they’ll always try to attack you, even after they are grown and fully trained. This single moment will decide everything that happens in the future.”

“You tell me that now?!” Peter wheezed. That was fucking important information!

“If you knew ahead of time, you’d keep putting it off until you were ready, but you would never think of yourself as ready. You need to do it now.”

Peter gritted his teeth and flinched when one of the paeyo darted forward and snapped at him before scrambling away. He was being bullied. He was being bullied by a little girl in a land full of bullies and dangerous beasts. He was forever trapped in a stupid country with stupid rules. And to top it all off, he was being told that his abuse would be his own fault if he didn’t act like a savage in return.

Well, if he was going to die, he may as well go down fighting. He swung the spear around and the three dragons scrambled out of its way. He slammed the butt of it down in the dirt, opened up the door to his constantly contained flood of anger, and screamed with everything he had. He shook with the force of it, his throat twinging with the intensity, his ears ringing as his blood boiled.

When he ran out of breath, he was left panting, his weight pitched forward as he leaned against the spear. The dragons scrambled back, their wings tucked into their sides. They chirped at him in distress as they huddled together. Peter watched them in wide eyed shock. He was certain that they would have ripped him apart for that. Even as small as they were, they outnumbered him and were far stronger.

“If you use a spear just right,” Ellie said as she walked up next to Peter. “You can slide between their scales and impale them. They usually don’t recover from that. Since the cage is on the outskirts of town, they see how we kill wild paeyo that try to get too close. The spear is a threat.”

Peter trembled with adrenaline. “You had us… come in here… and purposefully threaten them?”

Ellie smirked and set her spear on the ground. She picked up a piece of jerky and walked forward, holding it out, completely unprotected. Peter watched in a numb kind of shock as the bravest of the young dragons inched forward and took the offering from her, stumbling back immediately after. She grinned at it.

“We let them know that we are dangerous. We let them know that we are equal. We let them know that the very thing we use to harm, we can use to feed. Then we offer peace.”

Another of the dragons tried to sneak around Ellie, sniffing at the air, one eye on the bucket full of treats. Peter felt like his whole world was tilting. He couldn’t fathom how he was even alive at the moment. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the soldiers he had traveled with, the people he had encountered, were starting to make a lot more sense.

“Grab one of the pieces and toss it to him.” Ellie jerked her head at the dragon trying to sneak closer to the bucket.

Taking a deep breath and ignoring the part of his mind calling him an idiot, Peter cautiously made his way over and picked up a long strip of meat. He tossed it at the dragon who flinched back a bit, but then quickly jerked forward and grabbed the treat, chewing on it with gusto. Peter focused on trying to relearn how to breathe.

“Dragons don’t trust easily, even as babies. But then, humans usually don’t either. Being overly polite is also a way to not trust. You put on a false face, and you smile and tell lies, but you don’t trust the other person, and that person doesn’t trust you.”

Ellie waved her hand at the dragons and continued. “Maybe this feels scary to you, and loud and abrasive, but after that stops, you will trust each other far more than anyone who had a fake smile and said nice words. You’ll know that everything they do is real, and they’ll know the same.”

“And you’re learning all of this from the Priestesses?” Peter asked, at a loss of what else to think.

“And the Queen Mother.” Ellie smirked. “She is very smart.”

“Sure…”

“You know…” Ellie tossed another piece of meat and there was less hesitation that time before the dragons snapped it up. “If you train with them regularly, and you bond to one, then that will be your dragon to ride.”

“What?” Peter had a whole array of conflicting emotions to that. On the one hand, it was terrifying, on the other, the thought of actually flying… But that assumed he would be allowed a dragon. “Why allow a foreigner to own a dragon?”

“You don’t _own_ a dragon, you partner with one. Besides, you’re not a foreigner anymore.”

The dragon closer to Peter chriped at him in an insistent way, eyeing the bucket and Peter in turn. He bent down and tossed another piece to it. The paeyo happily started chomping away at it. Peter watched it as his brain rolled over the thought again and again. He wasn’t a foreigner? He felt like it. Had he changed? Perhaps… But then that left him feeling like he couldn’t return to Floa Bral without feeling out of place. So was he now a man with no country? A stranger everywhere he went?

“You’re doing pretty good!”

Peter jumped at the sudden sound of Wade’s voice. They both turned to see him leaned up against the outside of the cage watching them with a grin. How long had he been there?

“Daddy!” Ellie’s face split into a wide grin.

“Ah-ah!” He twirled his finger. “Eyes forward.”

Chastised, she immediately whirled back around and focused on the dragons. Peter did as well, surprised that he’d even taken his eyes off of them in the first place. They turned their heads from side to side in a questioning way as they watched the two humans before them, curious as to their sudden change in behavior.

“I ask you to show Peter around, and you take him straight to the untrained dragons.” Wade sounded amused and exasperated all at once.

“But the babies are cute!” Ellie defended. “Besides, it’s the most important place in the city!”

“Well, I can’t argue that.” Wade laughed as he watched them a moment longer. “It’s getting late. I was thinking about a dinner to ourselves, just you two, me, and grandma. How about that?”

“Perfect!” Ellie started hurriedly handing out the last of the treats so they could back out of the cage. The dragons were too distracted by the food to care much about Ellie and Peter’s retreat from their space.

Wade cranked the winch once they were safely out of the cage in order to close everything back up. He scooped Ellie into his arms when she ran up to him. They were cute together, making up for lost time by being overly affectionate. With the adrenaline still coursing through Peter, the contrasting feelings of watching them made him feel a little loopy.

“You’re a natural at dealing with them,” Wade said, turning to Peter with an indulgent smile. Peter was pretty sure that was a lie. He had been shaking in his boots the entire time. He was nowhere near the level of crazed and stupid bravery the other citizens of Kocrax were.

“If you say so…” Peter’s face likely showed his true feelings on the subject, but he could hardly hide it after what he’d been through.

Wade laughed and walked over, adjusting Ellie to sit on one hip as his other arm wrapped around Peter’s waist. He dropped a kiss on Peter’s cheek who automatically smiled in response because that was appropriate. Ellie still gave him a look that was far wiser than she she had any right to be at her age.

“Come on, they pulled out the carriage to tote me around the city and everything.”

“Ooo, I love the fancy carriage!” Ellie grinned.

Taking a deep breath, Peter kept the smile on his face, nodded, and let himself be pulled along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone with a language barrier that might not fully be catching on to the massive metaphor I’m doing: Peter is the baby dragon in a cage and Wade is the trainer. Wade is trying to prove to Peter that they’re both on equal footing and that they are both dangerous, but that they can be allies. Once Peter trusts Wade and sees himself as part of the flight (aka, a citizen of Kocrax) then he’ll be let out of the cage and can go anywhere he pleases. Mostly because Wade and Peter will then both understand that they trust and care for each other and will always be there to protect one another.
> 
> The main issue is that Wade is currently trying to convince everyone else that this has already happened and that Peter is totally on board. Only a few of the soldiers fully understand/suspect the extent of Peter’s misgivings. 
> 
> I've been so stoked to get to this chapter, but I'm also so nervous about how it turned out. XD So much info crammed into this. But I love the baby dragooooons! <3


	13. New Routines

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I saw Black Panther! \o/ It was amazing! Go see it!

Wade had seen to it that one of the wardrobes in his suite of rooms had been stocked with a variety of clothes that Peter could choose from. He also had his own private bathing chamber with a large sunken square tub that could be filled for a real bath. It was dry at the moment, as it was a waste of water in general, but more so since Wade had been away for so long. Peter seemed surprised to see it, but looked more than happy to use the pump to clean off and get changed.

Dinner was a sedate affair and Ellie ended up the only one not stiff and awkward. The blessing of being an unhindered child not walking a tightrope of expectations while married to a reluctant wife. Other than the stilted conversation, everything went well. They were all worn out after such a long day and eager to turn in even while the celebration continued throughout the city.

The suite of rooms Wade had been given when he became chief resided on the third floor and was complete with bedroom, sitting room, bathing room, open patio, and a large conference room for private meetings. It was set up to be well guarded by a former and rather paranoid chief. Wade hadn’t even unpacked most of his things before he’d left for war, there had just been too many other pressing matters. It didn’t feel particularly like a homecoming, but the large bed with its thick down stuffed mattress was comfy enough.

Peter commented on all the white, as most furniture was made of limestone and metal, while seating just had cushions thrown on top for comfort. Wood was hard to come by, so it was saved whenever possible. The carriage that the palace had was an extravagance and an ancient gift to a long dead chief. It was well maintained for that reason.

Most decorations or accents were in the form of colored glass or polished dragon horns, perhaps the occasional hanging tapestry of multicolored woven thread. Everything else was carved sandstone or limestone. It left the walls simultaneously empty and busy to look at. Wade fretted perhaps too much on what Peter thought about it all.

He distracted himself by pulling Peter into the bedroom and presenting a heavy cabinet, made of polished limestone with copper hinges and accents. A thick trail of wax lined the doors to prevent moisture, light, or bugs from getting inside. Peter blinked at the gift in blank surprise.

“Oh… It’s… very nice.”

“It’s for your books!” Wade clarified, practically vibrating with excitement over his clever idea. “You brought so many. I thought you’d like to keep them safe.”

For a moment, Peter’s eyes lit up, but the look was quickly covered with a polite smile, as if he was afraid of showing his emotions. Wade couldn’t tell if that had to do with him or the way Peter was raised. The damn man was a mystery that seemed impossible to figure out.

“Thank you. This is very kind,” Peter said as he opened the latch and looked inside.

Wade studied Peter for a long time before he just decided to be blunt. “Are you nervous?”

Peter’s fingers flinched the barest amounts, but he covered the motion by smoothing them along the smooth stone shelves. “It’s just a little overwhelming now that we’re actually here. I’m tired, is all. I’m sorry. I really do like it.”

“There’s still going to be a lot of planning and preparation before the bonding ceremony. In the meantime, you’ll be spending time with the Queen Mother during the day, then we can work on your hand-to-hand combat in the afternoons.”

“It sounds like I’ll be busy,” Peter said with a small but careful smile.

“Uh… Do… you not want to be?”

Those deep brown eyes cut over to look at Wade. “Staying busy is fine. Besides, I asked for these tasks.”

“I’ll be honest here. I can’t tell if you’re upset or not.”

Peter sighed and looked away, focusing on closing the cabinet doors and walking further into the room. “That makes two of us.”

“Is there something I can do?” Wade asked, carefully following after Peter.

“No, it’s fine. I just…” Peter ran a hand through his hair. “I was given a lot of things to think about today.”

Wade rubbed the back of his neck. “Ellie fancies herself a philosopher. She may be touched by Arev, but she’s aiming for Ts’av’s favor, that’s for sure.”

Peter shook his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Eh… It’ll come up in your time with the Queen Mother, I’m sure.” Wade walked over to some of the other furniture in the room so he could wave at it and Peter’s trunk. “I never got much of a chance to decorate, so you can do what you like with your things.”

Peter looked over at their two wardrobes sitting side by side. “You know, in Floa Bral husband and wife have their own rooms, usually connected by a doorway.”

Wade blinked. “Married people don’t even sleep in the same room?”

“No.” Peter smirked at the look on Wade’s face. “Craxians seem to enjoy their intimacy.”

“That’s because we’re not frigid!” Wade crossed his arms and huffed at the mere idea of it, but deflated a little when Peter started gazing around the room once more. “Do you… want… your own room?”

“I think that would not look well on our marital status. I’d rather not start out with the capital hating me.”

Despite Peter’s words, his voice said there was more to it. Wade couldn’t help feeling a little relieved. He watched as Peter’s head tilted back to look at the overhang. The roof was originally meant to jut out over the wall enough to not need enclosure. It allowed for a lot of natural light during the day. Currently, that open area was covered in a slanted wall of stained glass, all different colors, shapes, and sizes fit together to form random patterns.

“I had the glass put in when I became chief.” Wade was terrible at small talk, but he was desperate to help distract Peter from his own mind. “The open air let in too much noise, wind, and bugs.”

Peter looked at Wade with raised eyebrows. “That was your change to the palace?”

Wade shrugged. “Yes. My skin prefers more consistent atmospheres. I don’t want to be all itchy even when stuck inside all day, so most of the rooms I frequent have glass panes now. Since everything is so white, I thought the different colors would be pretty.”

That made Peter look back at the glass. “I bet it does look nice when the light shines through it.”

Even though the words were likely just an offhand polite compliment, it caused a little flutter of pride in Wade’s chest. “You’ll see in the morning.”

“We should get some rest.” Peter started undressing, still facing away.

Wade watched as the smooth creamy skin was exposed, how the muscles rolled just under the surface, and how the bones of Peter’s spine still poked through because of how small Peter was. The impulse to touch was so strong that Wade found his feet moving of their own accord. By the time Peter threw the garments onto the closest bench, leaving him only in loose pants, Wade was there.

When his hands touched, Peter flinched but didn’t move away. That was a good sign. Wade slid his hands along Peter’s skin as if he didn’t feel it every night. He explored it, learned it, memorized the feel of it. Peter let his head drop forward and allowed it, his breathing fast and shallow. Wade stepped forward and pulled Peter back against his chest, his hands smoothing over slim hips, soft stomach, and taut chest.

Peter smelled of musk and earth. Wade buried his nose in fluffy brown hair and breathed it deep. His poor denied libido throbbed for action, but it was more than that. It had been so long since he’d had intimacy. With Peter right there within arm’s reach, it was hard to abstain. It was the reason Wade kept them so close at night, the reason why he slept better with someone in his arms.

Tilting his head, Wade let his lips slide over until they hovered just over the top of Peter’s ear. “Is this alright?”

Peter took a deep breath and his fists clenched and unclenched by his sides. Still, he didn’t pull away. “Why are you smelling me?”

“Mmm…” Wade pressed his face into Peter’s temple and smiled as he breathed deep once more. “You smell good.”

“I probably smell like sweat.”

“I like it.” Wade dropped a kiss into Peter’s wild hair. It wasn’t enough, so he went lower and pressed another kiss on the side of Peter’s jaw.

Wade’s hands were itching to move more, to grab and pinch and pull. He wanted to scratch bright red lines along that white skin while he sank teeth into soft flesh. He couldn’t, of course. Peter was nowhere near ready to handle that level of intensity from Wade. They were doing well just having Peter stay calm in such situations as they were in currently. Still, some light trailing fingertips always brought goosebumps to Peter’s skin, which was fun to watch.

“How far are you going to take this?” Peter asked, his voice aiming for annoyed, but it came out too breathy. Perhaps that would have encouraged Wade had that constant underlying thread of fear not still been there.

Wade sighed and buried his face in the crook of Peter’s neck. “You can tell me to stop at any time,” he mumbled. “If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times that I never intend to force myself on you.”

Silence stretched between them and Wade petulantly wrapped his arms tight around Peter’s waist, keeping them together. He had no idea how to break through Peter’s walls, or even if there was a way to do so. They were such different people. Maybe… Maybe it wasn’t meant to work out…

Tentative fingers settled on Wade’s arm, slowly pressing down until the heat of calloused palms rested on the sensitive scarred skin of his forearm. Wade all but stopped breathing, terrified of spooking Peter and causing him to run. After a moment, Peter’s fingers gently squeezed the chorded muscle they wrapped around.

“We should get some sleep,” Peter whispered, his voice barely audible.

That night as Wade happily snuggled into Peter’s warm body, he couldn’t seem to keep the content grin off of his face. It was a good night’s rest.

 

~*~

 

Peter woke to a riot of colors. The ceiling shimmered with it and the walls were streaked with patterns. Some of the colors overlapped to create even more hues while others stood bold in their own right. Strips of bright colored light fell over the furniture as well, sinking into the white of the limestone like it was made for that purpose.

Sliding one hand out from under the quilt, he held it up to the light pouring into the room. It painted his fingers in red and blue. He smiled at it, turning his hand in order to play with it, letting it travel in various different ways across his skin.

Wade sucked in a giant breath and yawned, his arm pulling them closer together. “Looks pretty on you,” he mumbled, his voice rough with sleep.

“I’ve never seen anything quite like it. The limestone really shows it off.”

“Mmm. White and tan everywhere gets boring.”

A kiss landed on Peter’s shoulder, and he managed to not react to it. Not reacting was all he could really manage. He didn’t want to run away or reject it, he’d come to terms with that, but beyond that… To be honest, he was afraid of what he would do if he just allowed his body to go with the flow.

He was also worried at Wade’s reaction. If he kept accepting Wade’s advances, would his limits be pushed past what he could handle? Peter was never known for letting go and allowing things to happen without care. He liked to maintain control — of himself and the world around him. In a place like Kocrax, married to a person like Wade, that control was severely lacking.

“We could sleep in a little more,” Wade murmured.

“It’s already well past sunrise judging by how much light is coming through the glass.”

Wade groaned. “What’s the point of being chief if I’m not allowed to sleep all day?”

“If you wanted to sleep all day, then chief was not an occupation you should have taken on.” Peter wiggled out of Wade’s grasp and sat up to stretch.

“You’re mean,” Wade pouted and threw the quilt over his head.

Peter rolled his eyes. Wade was such a child sometimes. Standing up, he made his way over to the wardrobe set aside for him and started looking through the options. Wearing his normal clothes brought too much attention to him. He stuck out like a sore thumb. Perhaps there was a style of clothing he could get used to. Wade had certainly provided him with options.

Picking something that looked less complicated, Peter started getting dressed as Wade rolled himself out of bed with a lot of groaning. For all that Wade had appeared to be a morning person while traveling, he certainly wasn’t anymore. Or maybe Wade finally felt relaxed now that he was home while Peter was left feeling constantly anxious.

“We can have breakfast and then I’ll take you to the Queen Mother. She said that she’s more than happy to take you on her rounds today.”

“Her rounds?”

“To check up on people. She’s a busy woman.”

Though the book Peter often referenced didn’t speak much of the Queen Mother, there had been a chapter dedicated to her. It was a position of high authority. She was the person that performed all of the major rituals and would aid with the placement of workers. Every Priestess and midwife in the province reported to her. The position was passed down to an apprentice of her choosing.

“Will Ellie be with her today?”

“Most likely, though she’ll need to be brought into the meetings soon.” Wade said as he peered at his own clothing choices.

“The meetings?”

“The ones that I’m in all day — for city matters. The earlier she learns, the better.”

It took a moment for Peter to catch on. Wade intended for Ellie to take over after him, just as much as Ellie did. So perhaps it didn’t matter that she was a girl. Peter tried to hide his surprise so that he didn’t end up insulting Wade or causing him to fly off into another rant about Brals customs.

Truly, Peter would have liked to sit in on the meetings as well, but Wade seemed determined to keep Peter busy during such things. Knowing what kind of person Wade was made it baffling that he could possibly be making the right decisions for his people. Maybe everyone else believed that Wade would somehow magically know the right thing to do, but at least Peter could call Wade out for being an idiot.

But no, it seemed the _wife_ needed to stay away from such important meetings. Perhaps Wade knew Peter wouldn’t be able to hold his tongue. Maybe he thought it would look bad if his wife was constantly arguing his decisions. Peter wasn’t exactly known for his tact when he was frustrated or angry.

Wade moved closer and dropped a kiss on Peter’s cheek. “Make sure you eat well this morning, we still have training this afternoon.”

“Sure…” Peter looked up at the glowing multi-colored panes of glass above them. He didn’t know why it calmed him so much to see them, especially knowing that Wade had them put in, but it did. Taking a deep breath, Peter followed Wade from the room.

 

~*~

 

For an older woman, the Queen Mother had massive amounts of energy. Peter only spent half a day at a time with her, but his feet were killing him by the time he made it back to the palace. Wade seemed to find that endlessly amusing and teased Peter for being too much of a bookworm to get proper exercise. Perhaps Peter would have argued if he hadn’t been groaning over his sore legs.

To make matters worse, Wade was a hard teacher when it came to close hand combat. He never let up and Peter ended up covered in bruises because of it. Still, Peter refused tap out and kept at it until he could master the move Wade was teaching. Thankfully for Peter’s body, he was a fast learner.

By nightfall, Peter was so tired he could barely make it through dinner and would end up falling asleep the moment he crawled into bed. By the third day, it was obvious how much he was pushing himself. The Queen Mother took pity and sent one of her apprentices on some of the more lengthy journeys while she brought Peter to a local prayer group.

“Prayer” was a loose term. Though it was the Queen Mother’s responsibility to teach children how to pray properly, it involved learning how to efficiently kill and dress an animal so that all of its parts were put to good use. Though Peter had learned the basics of it on hunting trips with his father long ago, he’d never had much of a stomach for it. The children didn’t mind it at all.

“You seem confused,” Queen Mother teased as she walked up next to Peter. That was her way of trying to get him to ask questions when he was being quiet.

“It is not that I have no understanding of sacrifices…” Peter had heard of other religions doing such things. He thought it all rather barbaric. “But if you are just preparing the animal for your own uses anyways, how is it different from normal?”

The woman’s lips stretched in that secretly amused way she always seemed to have around Peter. Sometimes it grated on his nerves. “All dragons are the direct descendants of Sakit and Arev. Caring for their children is a way of showing them our piety. Being wasteful helps not human, dragon, or the land.”

Other ways to “pray” included physical combat and physical affection, always within view of the sky so that the dragon gods may see. Supposedly, they enjoyed seeing humans partake in challenges of dominance, the same as dragons do. Or great feats of survival. It earned the favor of the gods not only for the person who won, but for all those that the person cared about. Thus, it was very important that everyone be taught to care deeply for all citizens of their country.

Peter often wondered how much of a difference that made. Would his life have taken a different turn if Floa Bral had the same insistence on caring for all citizens? It was impossible to tell. Not to mention, religious doctrine rarely changed the core of most people, whether they saw themselves as devout or not. Peter had learned that lesson the hard way.

Two of the children suddenly started fighting and nobody stopped them. A few of kids cheered them on. The two tackled each other to the ground and Peter winced as they hit the sandstone with a thud. The downside to all of the roads being paved was how hard it was on the body when such inevitable actions happened.

One of the boys in the fight finally gave up, but the other larger boy continued hitting. A little girl walked up to him and with three sharp jabs into tender places, the attacker fell over with a wheeze, tears in his eyes. She pulled the pummeled boy up and helped him stumble over to a quieter place so she could bandage him up.

“Remember!” Queen Mother called to the boy still lying on the ground and struggling for breath. “The gods praise winners, not unconscionable and mindless attacks against a defenseless opponent.”

The other children danced around the boy on the ground and told him he was bad at praying. Queen Mother had to shoo them back to the job at hand to finish preparing the sacrifice for the dragons to eat. She shook her head and sighed once she had them all focused again.

“Some of them have a touch too much of Arev in them.”

There was that phrase again. Peter frowned. “What does that mean?”

“We are all touched by the gods in one way or another. It instills in us a sense of their personality. Arev is a great force, full of anger and aggression. His emotions can easily overpower him, and he is quick to lash out. He is also fiercely protective of his home.”

“Wade said that Ellie was touched by Arev.”

She grinned. “Like father, like daughter.” She looked over at him, her eyes roaming up and down his frame. “I expected to see your own gods in you when first we met, but I see much of Sakit in you.”

Peter grit his teeth and forced himself to take a calming breath. “Because I’m the wife.” The bitterness in his voice was more obvious than he intended, but he couldn’t help it. He was being forced into a woman’s role and attributed a woman’s temperament simply because he wasn’t as large and dumbly agressive as those around him.

Queen Mother eyed him long enough for him to start feeling fidgety about it. “It is a good match, Arev and Sakit. They balance one another. Though it is not unheard of to see same matches. They tend to butt heads more often.”

“You mean like the soldiers…”

“I imagine that was more to relieve tension than to find a love match.” She tapped a finger to her lip and hummed as she continued to stare into Peter’s very _soul._ It was uncomfortable. Peter found himself unconsciously leaning away from her.

Seeming to come to a conclusion, she called one of the children over to her. He was a large boy, stocky and full of muscle. Some of the smaller kids enjoyed seeing how many of them could hang onto him before he’d drop to a knee. He indulged them often and was friendly with everyone.

“Yes, Queen Mother.” The boy offered a respectful bow.

She waved her hand at Peter. “Have you met the chief’s wife?”

Both Peter and the child tensed up. Peter had asked that his identity not be broadcast while he was still learning and traveling the city with her. Many people already knew, of course, but Peter had no desire to be the center of attention. The boy immediately bowed to Peter as well.

“I didn’t know. I’m sorry,” he mumbled, looking embarrassed.

Peter waved his hands in front of him. “No, no. It’s fine. I was quiet about it on purpose. No apology needed.”

The boy looked up at Peter with shy eyes. “You’re observing our prayer. D-did I do well?”

“Yes! Very well.”

That didn’t appear to be the right answer, because the poor kid flushed and looked away in shame. “I don’t like touching the entrails…” he confessed in a murmur, as if he was compelled to tell the truth in front of such high authority as the chief’s wife and the Queen Mother.

Peter looked at the older woman for help, but she just kept that damned amused smile in place and raised her eyebrows, challenging Peter to deal with it. He scowled at her, but that only amused her more. Fine. He could handle the situation. All he had to do was act like Uncle Ben always had to the children he cared for.

Bending over to put his face at the same height as the child’s, Peter whispered, “I’ll share with you a secret. I never liked touching them either. They’re all gross and slippery.” Peter pulled a face. “And they _smell_.”

The kid smiled and peeked up at Peter. “What did you do?”

“I would come up with new lyrics to songs that I liked. It kept me distracted.”

That brought a smile to the boy’s face, like Peter had just given him a secret answer to his biggest problem. He thanked Peter profusely, bowed to the both of them again, and then ran back over to the others with new vigour. Peter could hear him humming something occasionally as the kids pestered him about who Peter was and what all the bowing was about.

Queen Mother chuckled. “You have a way with kids.”

Peter shrugged. “That’s thanks to my uncle.”

“Sometimes only one touched by Sakit can offer advice to another.”

That took a moment to sink in. Peter looked between her and the boy with wide eyes. “He is…”

“Did you think being god touched was somehow locked to gender or role or appearance?” She looked amused and exasperated with Peter’s assumptions. “And even if it was, why would being an exception be a bad thing?”

“I… Well… Isn’t different… bad?”

“You know, one can only strive to gain Ts’av’s favor through hard work and learning. It is extremely rare for someone to be born touched by Ts’av. Those that are happen to always be a woman and will be trained to be the next Queen Mother. However, some thirteen generations back, there is record of a man taking the role of Queen Mother because he had been touched by Ts’av. What do you think of that?”

Peter had no idea what to think of that, and it likely showed on his face. A man taking the title of Queen Mother? A man being god-touched by a genderless animal god? It was a bit too much too fast for Peter’s mind.

“Comparably to that, it is all too common to find those touched by Sakit or Arev in any body. Holding too hard to assumptions of how people will act will not fare you well. You must assess each individual if you wish to truly know them. _Do_ you want to truly know those around you?”

That was an even harder question that Peter didn’t have an answer for. On the one hand, he did. Fully understanding everyone around him would keep him safe. On the other hand, to gain that kind of knowledge meant opening himself up in return. It meant allowing himself to be vulnerable. He’d had that backfire too many times in his life. Categorizing people based on their appearance, pattern of speech, culture, or gender… it was _safe._

 _And lonely._ Peter shoved the stray thought away, stuffed it down deep inside so he wouldn’t have to analyze it. Certainly, Kocrax was not the place to be searching for safety and acceptance. He’d already been attacked once so far. He was already having to compromise his morals in order to _touch_ a man in such a way. He was already trapped…

Queen Mother’s hand landed on his back with far more force than her age dictated. “You fret too much. After this, let’s visit the young dragons in training.”

Despite how much Peter declined, he was forced into feeding the smaller dragons anyways. Something about building character. It felt more like a punishment. At least he made it out without getting attacked.

 

~*~

 

Wade grabbed a towel and wiped off the sweat from his neck and around his face as Peter moaned and pulled himself up from the ground. They were in a patio near the center of the palace practicing under the setting sun. A few out of the way guards were near the columns that led back into the enclosed rooms and hallways. The upside to the area was that it could be guarded from all sides, the downside was that wind rarely graced the walled off box, making it hotter than normal.

Both men were shirtless, only keeping loose pants on as they practiced. Peter’s skin was pink from the sun, but he was slowly becoming darker. It made him look a far cry healthier than he had when Wade first met the man. Hints of muscle were starting to poke through as well, though Wade wasn’t sure Peter had even noticed that yet.

Wade noticed. Wade noticed everything about Peter.

Peter swiped a hand through his dripping hair to slick it back before propping his fists on his hips and taking deep gulps of air. Wade tossed his towel away and grinned at Peter.

“Giving up yet?”

“No.” Peter bent down and snatched up his wooden practice dagger before dropping back into a fighting stance.

It was cute how hard he was trying. Wade kept that thought to himself. Peter didn’t like such comments. Instead, Wade circled around for a bit and then darted in. Peter managed to block the jab from Wade and spin out of the way before Wade could recover. The thing Peter had going for him was speed, that was for sure.

A few quick moves later and Wade had Peter’s dagger flying through the air. He laughed and spread his arms in victory as Peter scowled. “You’ve gotta be faster than— Oof!”

So, perhaps Wade had a bad habit of gloating after his wins, but Peter was the first to be ballsy enough to take advantage of that. They went down hard when Peter tackled Wade. The remaining knife went skidding away with a well placed kick. Wade’s fingers throbbed after that one.

The problem with Peter was his lack of follow through. He could act on instinct well, but once getting his opponent at a disadvantage, he didn’t know what to do with it. Wade rolled them when Peter hesitated and had the man pinned in no time flat. Peter writhed and struggled, his teeth gritted and eyebrows drawn tight together, but he couldn’t break Wade’s hold.

“That almost worked.” Wade chuckled and shifted his weight some to counter Peter’s squirming. “It could have worked if you knew anything about grappling.”

Peter huffed and went still, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. “It is hardly my fault that none of this is part of a nobleman’s mandatory training.”

“Well, that’s why we’re here to learn.” Wade shrugged.

The shrugging was a mistake. Peter used that moment of unbalanced movement to flip them. He was a fast learner and balanced his weight appropriately on his hands and shins to keep Wade pinned to the ground. The little shit had the most mocking grin on his face.

“Aren’t we lucky I’m such a good student?”

Wade pouted. “You _could_ have said I was a good teacher.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

“And they call _me_ insufferable.”

Peter laughed and Wade was a little mesmerized by it. Peter hovered over him, keeping him in place. Wet strands of hair dangled around that soft flushed face, unblemished from any battle scars. Peter looked perfect, untouched, pure. Wade was both attracted to that and scared by it. It made sense why someone like Peter would never want someone like Wade.

“Why are you giving me that look?” Peter asked, his voice suddenly soft. A frown started pulling that beautiful smile from his face.

Wade tried for one of his usual lewd grins. “Just thinking about how nice it is to see you on top of me.”

Usually comments like those made Peter run or scold for ruining a relaxed moment. For some reason, Peter did neither of those things. He stayed in place, staring down at Wade with an unreadable look. Wade wasn’t one for scrutiny. It made him fidgety. He pulled a hand free and Peter let it happen.

Trying to force some kind of reaction out of Peter other than the uncomfortable stare, Wade reached up and ran his fingers into Peter’s hair, brushing it back along the side of the man’s head. Still, Peter didn’t move. A spike of need shot through Wade’s body, riding on a wave of hope. It was presumptuous, perhaps, but oh so sweet. Wade wanted Peter so bad…

“What are you thinking so hard about?” Wade pushed, his eyes desperately trying to read Peter’s.

“I’m not thinking…” Peter murmured, his gaze dropping down to Wade’s lips.

Perhaps Wade should have waited for a more blatant signal, but he wasn’t about to miss a golden opportunity. He lifted up, his hand gripping in Peter’s hair to keep the man in place. It wasn’t needed. Peter closed his eyes let it happen. He dropped forward and followed Wade back to the ground.

Wade was quickly becoming addicted to the taste of Peter’s lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought about giving Queen Mother a Marvel character, but I couldn't think of anyone that suited her well. I guess she'll just be Generic Wise Woman #2. (Because Generic Wise Woman #1 was taken: http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Wise_Woman_(Earth-616) ) Weeeelll, maybe an older Moondragon? http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Heather_Douglas_(Earth-616) Dunno. (Mostly because of the hair, which is a thing I'm worried I won't be able to fit in, but I shall endeavor to shove as much culture info into this fic as possible without sacrificing storyline. lol)
> 
> Peter's got some issues with gender roles that he needs to work out. XD
> 
> I was super excited to get into the god-touched info, but fitting that into a scene fought me a little. So I layered it with the different aspects of praying. Hope that wasn't too much info at once. lol Though I know some of you knew all of this already after reading my loooong rambling replies to comments a couple of chapters back. hehe
> 
> Resolving this sexual tension more and more has been utter bliss for me, guys. <3


	14. First Times

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A stray cat showed up on my porch and he was nothing but skin and bones and he's the sweetest thing and we named him Yurio and I've spent a lot of time taking care of him and more info about that on my tumblr if you're interested.

It was just the three of them in the sitting room, gathered around a low table and seated on cushions. Ellie’s grandmother didn’t prefer living in the palace as she was attached to the home she had built with her late husband, so she didn’t join them for every meal. Ellie would often eat with her or the Queen Mother, but had made a point to have dinner with Wade and Peter every day. It was a good way to help them all get used to one another.

It had only been a week in the capital, but Peter was already making faces at his food. He never said it out loud, but it was obvious that the thrill of new things had passed. Wade did his best to request foods he thought Peter might like, but options were limited. Particularly because Peter had a more sensitive palate, whether he realized it or not.

Ellie was not one to just let it pass, however much Wade wished she would. “Bored with your food choices?” she asked.

Peter smiled in that polite way he did when he wanted to make a snippy comment. “I think I’m just succumbing to habit. Things taste sweeter in Floa Bral. It’s the end mulberry season, currently, so they’ll be making everything with them. I don’t even _like_ mulberries and I’m missing them. It’s odd.”

“Hmm…” Ellie eyed Peter’s plate and Wade silently tried to communicate that she should stay quiet, but she refused. “Maybe you’d like it better if you weren’t being served the blandest food possible. You do know that dad tells the cook not to add spices to your food, right?”

Wade put his face in his hand and sighed. “Ellie, why…” Through his fingers, he could see Peter’s stiff, offended posture.

“You worry that my taste is too delicate?” Peter gritted out, glaring daggers. Ellie looked smug.

“I don’t tell them not to put spices in your food,” Wade defended, holding up his hands. “I just tell them not to use _certain_ spices.”

“How am I supposed to get used to Craxian food if I’m not eating it?” Peter snapped.

“It’s a good point,” Ellie tacked on, looking so proud of herself that Wade wanted to dump her bowl of curry on her head.

“Peter, listen to me, please. You don’t understand how… _hot_ our food can be. We’ve been eating these things since birth. You build a tolerance to it.”

Ellie rolled her eyes. “It’s not that bad.”

Wade frowned at her. “Who was the one living with Brals soldiers these past years?”

She just stuck her nose in the air and continued to look unrepentant. “You want to try a bite of mine?”

“Don’t!” Wade warned, but Peter wasn’t listening. He was just accepting the spoonful of Ellie’s curry without any idea of what he was doing. Wade hurriedly poured a glass of goat milk in preparation.

Once Peter swallowed, it didn’t take long for the effects to show. His eyes grew round and he started coughing. He reached for his glass, but Wade stopped him and shoved the milk in his hand.

“Water doesn’t help. Drink some of that and then hold another gulp in your mouth until the burn fades,” Wade instructed.

Peter did his best to comply as his skin broke out in a sweat and tears gathered at the edges of his eyes. By the time he finished the glass of milk, he was breathing somewhat normally again. Ellie watched him in disappointment with her head propped in her hand as she pointedly scooped large spoonfuls of curry into her mouth and swished it around.

“How are you eating that?!” Peter wheezed.

“I had more faith in you than this,” Ellie deadpanned.

Wade smacked her on the forehead with his spoon before he turned to Peter. “This is why you should listen to me more often.”

Peter looked indignant. “How was I supposed to know that you eat molten lava?!”

Ellie snorted and seemed unbothered when she was smacked with a spoon again.

“Like I said,” Wade continued. “You build up a tolerance for it.”

He pulled over some of the plain mixed [tubers](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tuber) Peter had available and mashed them up. He added a few spoonfuls of his curry and mixed it well before sliding it back over. Peter eyed it with great suspicion.

“Ellie eats things hotter than I do,” Wade promised. “Try that and see how it is.” He even refilled the now empty cup with more milk in case Peter needed it.

Cautiously, Peter took a bite, though his face said he did it only for his pride’s sake. It took a few moments before he decided that it wasn’t going to kill him. “I can’t believe such a small amount still makes it taste this hot.”

“Is it too hot?”

“…No.” That was probably a lie, but Wade didn’t call Peter on it. He was still managing to eat it with only the occasional sip of milk.

“Tubers and greens are bland. You have to do _something_ to them,” Ellie complained.

Peter glared at her. “Perhaps you’ve just burnt your tongue beyond repair and can no longer taste anything.”

Ellie laughed. “Better than living my life eating nothing but bland foods. What do mulberries taste like? Faint and fleeting?”

Wade lifted his spoon to smack her again, but Peter beat him to it by lobbing a spoonful of mashed tubers at her head. She gaped at him in shock as the mess ran down her face. Peter raised his eyebrows, looking completely serious.

“Oh, my. It seems you have something on your face. You should be more careful when you eat. You’re old enough to have proper manners at the table.”

Wade snorted hard and then collapsed into a fit of laughter he felt certain he wasn’t going to recover from. Ellie smirked and narrowed her eyes at the challenge. She scraped the mess off her face and lobbed it at Peter, but, quick as he was, he easily dodged it. It went flying past him to splat on the floor. Peter shook his finger at her and clicked his tongue.

“How childish, Ellie. You’re old enough not to play with your food.”

The wheezing noise Wade made as he gasped for breath through his laughter sounded utterly ridiculous and set the other two off. Ellie started laughing a little too hard as well every time Wade tried to catch his breath. Even Peter, for the first time since Wade had met him, broke out into a full smile and allowed himself to laugh.

Servants shook their heads with quiet amusement at the trio as they quickly cleaned up the mess before retreating back to their unobtrusive spots. Wade was actually rather relieved that the whole scene was witnessed. Gossip would spread and everyone would know that Peter wasn’t as uptight and reserved as he appeared.

 

~*~

 

Peter stood by and watched as the servants continued to run back and forth with buckets into the bathing chamber. The afternoon light glinted off their metal collars as they passed. Wade finished talking to whoever was overseeing things and then walked back over to Peter with a grin.

“I’m having them fill the tub and then heat the water with hot stones. Some salt and herbs will be mixed in. It’ll do wonders for your muscles.”

As much as Peter tried to hide how hard his new life was on his body, there was only so many muscle spasms, bruises, and stiff movements he could brush off. Wade insisted on Peter resting up and recuperating for at least a day. Peter was too tired to argue.

A young boy followed behind two large servants carrying a heavy container of stones. He carefully grabbed one of the hot stones with long tongs and placed it into the water. It sizzled when it hit the surface, but once submerged, it was dropped to allow it to sink to the bottom. Peter’s eyes kept finding their way back to the band of metal around the boy’s neck.

“Why do they wear those?” Peter asked.

Wade followed Peter’s gaze to determine what they were talking about before looking back at Peter. “They’re not slaves, if that’s what you’re thinking. Slavery is illegal in Kocrax.”

“So I’ve read.” Peter crossed his arms as he watched the servants work. “My book never mentioned all of the servants wearing a collar. Why do they?”

“Not all of them do, only the ones in trouble.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if you break the law, you get punished. It’s either death or indentured servitude. The severity of the offence determines how long they serve and where.”

Peter frowned. “You have no prisons?”

“We don’t really have the room for it, and the Priestesses have determined that they’re not effective anyways.”

“If they’re being punished, how can you trust them not to be angry or bitter about it?” Many of the collared servants handled food. They could easily poison the person who had given them their sentence.

“Eh.” Wade shrugged. “Retaliating, running away, refusing to work, or harming others while indentured is punishable by death. Considering the situation most are in, that’s more trouble than it’s worth.”

“Is everything solved by death?” Peter let his voice show what he thought about that.

“It’s a decent deterrent.” Wade raised what eyebrows he had left. “You fret too much. It’s not nearly as bad as what’s in your head.”

“Is that so?” Since Peter had no idea what the most current laws even _were_ in Kocrax, he couldn’t be sure. And Wade’s idea of what was and wasn’t normal was up for debate. If Peter was supposed to “pick his own morals” then he wasn’t about to be told what to think just so it lined up with everyone else.

Wade muttered something under his breath in exasperation. He called over the young boy that had just finished sinking the last hot stone. The boy ran over and bowed to them. He stood straight and with his hands behind his back in a way that said he’d been forced to learn proper courtesy but was annoyed at doing so. Wade tried to fight off his amusement at the sight.

“What did you do?” Wade asked without preamble.

The boy sighed and his face look so utterly _done._ “I did not properly dispose of my poop,” he recited.

Wade’s smirk was fighting its way onto his face. “And why is that bad?”

“Because fertilizer is precious and cannot be wasted. If the crops don’t grow, then we can’t eat. If we can’t eat, then we can’t poop.” That last part seemed tacked on as his own way of defying how many times he’d had to repeat it.

Giving up, Wade chuckled at the kid. “How long is your sentence?”

“Four months.”

“How far in?”

“Two.”

Wade clapped the kid on the shoulder with a smile. “You’re halfway there. It’ll be over in no time. Good job.”

An almost smile tugged at the kid’s lips, like he was a little too pleased at being praised by the chief, but he didn’t want to show it. “Thank you, Chief.”

Wade jerked his chin and the kid bowed before running off back to his job. A smug grin was on Wade’s face when he turned back to Peter. “Make sure you’re putting your poop in the right chamber pot. I can think up all sorts of tasks for you to do as my servant.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “You’re so childish.”

It wasn’t long before the now cooled stones were removed and the tub was covered in strong smelling herbal leaves. The servants bowed their way out, leaving Wade and Peter alone. They washed up prior to soaking in the tub, and Wade insisted on washing Peter’s hair and back. Peter was a little unsure of Wade’s intentions, but he begrudgingly agreed.

It turned out to be not so bad. Wade didn’t so much wash as he did pamper, kneading his fingers into Peter’s sore back muscles and relaxing him into a warm buzz with a scalp massage. It was nice, and Peter enjoyed it, but it was intimate. Peter kept telling himself that he needed to stop letting that bother him, especially considering what his future held, but old habits die hard.

Rinsing off was a relief because Wade’s excuse to touch Peter ended. He was able to focus on the steaming water instead. It was a large squared off area of stone sunken into the floor, big enough to fit a good four people comfortably. He dipped his toes in and hissed a little at how suddenly hot it was.

Easing himself in felt like bliss. The heat sank into his skin immediately, and he was surrounded by the steaming, fragrant air. He slid down further, letting the water rise up over his shoulders as he relaxed back against the warm stone behind him. Closing his eyes, he let all of his muscles relax, moaning at how wonderful it felt.

The water lapped around his neck as Wade slid in on the other side. For a while, they sat there in silence, just listening to the water slosh and drip in the room. Peter let his mind float, half in a daze as the week’s exhaustion caught up to him. He hadn’t really thought much about it when Wade suggested the bath, but maybe sometimes the man had good ideas.

“You look ready to fall asleep,” Wade said.

“Mmm…” Peter was definitely going to pass out the moment his head hit the pillow.

The water moved and something touched his foot. He jumped and opened his eyes to see Wade close to him, picking up Peter’s foot and setting it in his lap. “Calm down. I’m just helping.” In so saying, Wade’s thumbs dug into the flesh of Peter’s sole. It was both painful and amazing, and Peter let out the most embarrassing groan.

“That should not feel so good,” Peter mumbled.

Wade grinned. “Just sit back and let me take care of you for once.”

Peter felt like that was all Wade did — take care of him. Think about Peter’s needs constantly, fret over him, argue with him, try to control every aspect of his life… But maybe he could admit that was a little unfair. Wade’s concerns were often rooted in making sure Peter felt comfortable and had choices. Really, it was the choices that Peter didn’t know what to do with.

“Good?” Wade asked as his hands worked further up, encouraging the muscles in Peter’s calves to let go and turn to mush.

“‘S fine…” Peter let his head fall back against the stone wall again and closed his eyes.

Trust. That was a hard thing for Peter to do. He had lived a life of paranoia, never knowing who he should and shouldn’t put his faith in. Harry had been one of the only exceptions after Peter lost his family. It felt almost odd to think of Harry now, as if their friendship was separate from his new life. Peter wondered what his oldest friend would think of the situation he was in, learning to trust a man he’d been forced to marry.

Learning to… enjoy… touch…

Wade’s diligent fingers worked up to Peter’s thigh, infusing heat and relaxation as they went. He didn’t stray, but it didn’t matter. Peter’s body was responding, delighting the feel of being touched in such an satisfying way. His body was practically singing with how good he felt. The slight pain that accompanied the massage only made matters worse. It was a heady mix.

Those calloused fingers stopped just shy of of being inappropriate and then moved to Peter’s next leg, starting at the foot and slowly but surely moving upward. Peter felt his nethers stir and kept his eyes stubbornly clenched shut, not wanting to look and see if his arousal was noticeable. Even if it wasn’t, his breathing was. He could try and blame it on the heat. He could blame his flushed skin on the same.

The way his head kept digging back into the stone as his hands clenched at the wall… That was a little harder to play off. It had been so long since he’d found release. Wade scolded him for it often enough, but still Peter refused, as a point of pride. Now, it was catching up to him. As relaxed as he was, his body wanted more, and it had no problems with such things coming from Wade.

But what if… What if Peter just didn’t think about it? Not thinking was what let him get away with a lot recently. The touching, the kissing — it was all because Peter stopped his mind from obsessing over it. He just let it happen. In return… he had enjoyed it.

And why shouldn’t he? He was trapped in a foreign nation and married to someone willing to do anything to please Peter. If there was no leaving the situation, then why not at least get what he could out of it? That was simply survival. It was making the best of a bad situation. It was—

Wade’s thumb traced along the seam of Peter’s groin. Mouth hanging open, breath panting, eyes hooded, Peter gazed at the man before him while refusing to think about the look of raw need on his face. He was hard already. He could feel it. Wade knew as well, that was for certain. The burning look of lust in his eyes was proof enough.

The distance closed between them as Wade pushed further forward, the water rippling in his wake. His face was close, head tilted just so, lips stopped as they hovered over Peter’s. Large hands caressed Peter’s hips and the swell of his ass. Wade didn’t push, he waited, frozen just a breath away from what Peter wanted.

_What he wanted…_

Letting the mix of exhaustion, arousal, and relaxing heat numb his mind, Peter stopped thinking and allowed himself move. It was the first time Peter had initiated a kiss, and that turned Wade into something desperate. His lips moved against Peter’s like a man starving, so full of primal need. It left Peter feeling dizzy.

A tongue swiped at his lips and he instinctively opened his mouth to it. Wade darted in, tasting and caressing. Peter’s tongue moved against his in return, sliding wet and hot and soothing, the same as their bodies in the steaming water. Skin was everywhere, touching, gliding, molding together. Peter felt engulfed by it, but also in control of it, driving Wade mad with desire, the same as Peter was.

When their lips broke apart, Peter gasped for breath. Wade moved down to suck and bite a line of marks down Peter’s neck. It felt right. Wade was always holding something back, always trying to maintain control. But if what he was keeping such a tight rein on was the need to mark, then Peter was happy to oblige. His head dropped back in invitation, letting Wade travel across more and more skin.

Peter’s hips jerked of their own accord, his cock throbbing almost too hot. He felt overheated, like the two of them could cause the water to boil at any moment. Wade must have agreed because suddenly Peter was being lifted into the air and sat on the edge of the tub, his feet and calves still submerged in water, bits of herbs clinging to his skin. Wade stood between Peter’s spread legs, dropping kisses and bites along Peter’s chest and stomach.

The cooler air felt nice against his heated skin, and he sucked in deep lungfuls of it. He looked down at the top of Wade’s head, his fingers sliding across the shiny twisted skin and over broad shoulders. Blue eyes cut up to watch Peter’s face as Wade traveled lower, his mouth getting indecently close to Peter’s bobbing erection.

It was unseemly to take such a thing as a cock into one’s mouth, but Wade had never once lived up to Peter’s expectations of proper behavior. Why would be start now? He positioned himself to make it obvious what he intended to do. Peter stopped breathing for a moment, anxiously waiting on Wade’s next action.

But Wade refused to move. He wouldn’t. Not until Peter allowed it. Sucking in a deep breath, Peter pressed his fingertips ever so lightly on the back of Wade’s bald head. That was all the signal Wade needed. A moment later Peter was engulfed in warm and wet of a different sort. He choked, his fingers gripping at slick skin as his torso curled forward.

_Why is Wade so good at this?_

Peter had never felt anything like it. Wade’s tongue moved around in quick patterns, rubbing and teasing at his cockhead, while his lips stayed tight and his cheeks hollowed. Wade’s head bobbed with gusto, making sure every last inch of Peter was given attention and pleasure. Peter moaned, one hand gripping Wade’s shoulder, fingernails digging into skin. Wade gave a muffled moan in response, and it rattled its way through Peter’s cock and straight up his spine.

The muscles in Wade’s shoulder bunched and rolled at a fast pace. He was jerking himself as his mouth worked. He was finding enjoyment out of the act of giving such shameful pleasure. He was aroused at the sight of Peter’s reactions. That felt… powerful. Like a bit of control that Peter never knew he could have.

Pressure built at the base of his spine and his abdomen quivered at the feeling. His hips shifted and jerked, his need to finally have some relief at a high point now that he was being shown all that he had missed out on the past few months. Whispered pleas and encouragements tumbled from his lips, though he couldn’t say what language he spoke them in. His mind was far beyond any kind of rational thought. The haze of quiet that caused his mind to be devoid of anything but pleasure was a wonderful experience.

Peter’s arousal began to spike. He was too close. He wasn’t going to be able to stop it. He pushed weakly at Wade, not wanting the pleasure to stop, but also not wanting to feed the man his seed, of all things. Wade didn’t stop, however. He just dug his fingers into Peter’s hip and kept him in place. Peter tried to hold back, but his whole body was lit up with ecstacy.

“Wait!” Peter choked. “I’m going to—”

Wade hummed and Peter made a strained noise at the feeling of it. A moment later he was moaning and shuddering his release down Wade’s throat. The man’s eyes rolled like that was all he needed in life. A few moments later Wade was spilling into his hand, grunting as he continued to swallow everything Peter had to give.

They both spiraled back down slowly, choosing to bask in the afterglow rather than recover from it. Wade left languid kisses along the insides of Peter’s thighs, his hands gently petting over wet skin. Peter’s own fingers yearned to move, so he let them. They trailed along the patterns of Wade’s scars in a barely there touch.

Peter’s eyelids drooped now that his climax had fully drained him. He felt ready to fall asleep right there by the water and stay until morning. Wade lifted himself out of the tub and grabbed a towel, bringing it over to pat Peter dry without a word. Still in a daze, Peter just closed his eyes and let himself be pampered.

Though it barely felt like any time had passed, they were both suddenly clean and dry. Wade pulled Peter the rest of the way from the water, dried his legs and feet, and then scooped him up into his arms. Peter wanted to complain about being carried in such a way, but the thought flitted away as fast as it formed. He was just too tired…

The soft mattress of the bed molded around him and a pillow cradled his head. Warm skin pressed up against his own before a quilt weighed down on them both. Feeling more relaxed than he had in years, Peter drifted off into the deepest sleep he could ever remember having.

 

~*~

 

After trying on a variety of options over the week, Peter had settled on an outfit he rather liked. It was a simple linen shirt and pants with a long tunic over it. The tunic, however, had four four separate panels that were held together by a thick string of leather that allowed the tunic to be adjusted to size. Though it was meant to be worn loose, Peter discovered that cinching up all of the leather as far as it could go made sure the garment was tight enough to finally feel comfortable for him.

The leather stitching ended at the waist, allowing the panels to flow free around the legs past the knee. This meant freedom of movement and easy access to the waistline for any weapons or coin purses kept there. That was important as Wade insisted that Peter wear his rapier and dagger — now fixed from when Peter had warped the tip — in the city now, just in case. He also carried a few coins on the off chance they were needed along with a licorice root.

The licorice root had been pushed on him by a Priestess he met that had been highly concerned about the reports of bad teeth among Brals. She insisted that chewing on it regularly and allowing it work over all of his teeth would prevent them from falling out. She had looked so paranoid about it, that Peter had ended up paranoid about it, so he used it. It had a faintly sweet but dark taste, so it wasn’t so bad.

“Peter.”

He adjusted his belt and smoothed down the panels of the tunic. It was a light russet color. The clothing underneath was undyed, but sunbleached enough to give it an off white hue. It wasn’t as opulent as he was used to, but that hardly bothered him. It was rather nice, being able to wear something so comfortable—

“ _Peter_.”

Focusing on the world around him, Peter looked up at Wade’s face with its poorly disguised worry. It had been a quiet morning between them, with Peter actively keeping his mind away from the events of the night before. Wade obviously was thinking about nothing but that and anxiously waiting on Peter’s reaction.

Why couldn’t Peter be allowed to just not have a reaction? Why did he always have to address it? Could Wade not let him out of it at least once?

“Are you upset?” Wade asked, voice unnaturally timid.

Peter forced a small smile onto his face. “Sorry. I’m still waking up. What are the plans for breakfast?”

“Please…”

The look on Wade’s face was too much, so Peter turned away, busying himself with pulling out his boots and closing the wardrobe. He still preferred his tailored boots to the clunky Craxian ones or their love of sandals. “I’m fine,” Peter said. “Why are you pushing this?”

“Because…” Wade took a deep breath in and out, composing himself for something. “They’re pushing for me to set a date for the bonding ceremony. I keep putting it off, but I don’t know how much longer I can avoid it.”

Peter stilled, surprised at what he’d just heard. “You haven’t set a date?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Wade tossed his hands in the air and paced off a few steps before walking back and doing it again. Peter eyed the man as he pulled on his other boot. Why was Wade delaying it? Peter both wanted to put it off _and_ get it over with, but for whatever reason, knowing that Wade was avoiding it just annoyed him. Like he was purposefully extending the nervous waiting just to torture Peter.

“The ceremony is…” Wade rubbed his hand over his head. “It’s _special._ It’s a connecting of _souls._ It about _love._ I just… I don’t want to wake up the next day only to have you pull away and hate me for it. I don’t… I can’t handle that.”

Peter stared at Wade for a while, watching the man nervously pace the room. Wade wore his emotions front and center for all the world to see, uncaring about how he could be judged for it. Peter was not that kind of person. He didn’t know if he could be. But.

“I don’t hate you.”

“But you’re upset,” Wade argued, still not looking at Peter.

“I’m not.”

“Then what? You’re just ignoring me?”

“We’re talking right now.”

“But you…” Wade stopped and turned to Peter with a look that was almost painful. It made no sense why Wade wanted so much out of a relationship that was not only doomed to fail, but to never start up in the first place. They were too different. They were men. How was anything other than a cordial marriage something they could accomplish?

Wade walked up and cupped his palm around Peter’s cheek. His hand was all rough skin, but his touch was gentle. Peter made a point to stay where he was, proving that he wasn’t rejecting Wade.

“I don’t want you to hide from me.”

“I’m not. I’m right here, Wade.”

“Would it be so bad?” Wade whispered. “Being loved by me?”

Peter sucked in a breath and swallowed. He didn’t know the answer to that. Would it? “Do you want that? With someone like me?”

“Yes.”

Such a simple answer from Wade, as if it didn’t steal the air from Peter’s lungs. After so long just trying to survive, Peter hadn’t realized how much he wanted to be loved. How much he had missed it, in any form. Wade’s promises of safety, love, and family… It was terrifying. Wade acted like he wouldn’t be able to handle Peter’s rejection, but Peter was certain he wouldn’t survive the loss of what he wanted most. It was such a high risk.

Peter wasn’t sure what showed on his face, but Wade pulled them together, pressing Peter tight against his chest, strong arms wrapped around Peter’s torso. Perhaps they were both terrified of the future, and for their own reasons, but Peter didn’t know what to do about that. He set his hands on Wade’s arms, giving what comfort he could in return.

“Am I a bad choice?” Wade pressed, desperate to know the answer. “Can I fix it? Tell me what to do, and I will.”

The thing was, Peter believed that. He believed Wade would go above and beyond to try and make himself an acceptable partner. Maybe he’d fail a lot, but Peter knew Wade well enough to know the man wouldn’t stop trying. Perhaps that was the answer Peter needed.

“You’re not a bad choice,” Peter whispered. “I would call you my friend.”

“And more than that?”

Peter was silent for a long while. He needed to make a decision. Not just for Wade, but for himself.

“I cannot promise to instantly be accepting of everything…” Peter said, words slow and careful. “It will take time to adjust.”

Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, Peter forced himself to speak. “But I can promise to stop fearing it. I can… admit… that I enjoy touching… and being touched… I…”

Wade’s fingers tightened in the fabric of Peter’s tunic. He stayed silent, but his emotions were obvious. He was so desperate to be wanted and happy that anything Peter said lit him up with hope. It was sometimes a little too obvious, but Peter was determined to no longer run from it. After all, there was nowhere to run _to._ Kocrax was where he lived now.

“I cannot alter the intensity of my emotions to fit yours,” Peter clarified. “But I do _care_ about you. I am willing to be a part of your home, of your—” Peter choked off, unexpectedly emotional about the thought of having a family once more. He didn’t expect it to overwhelm him like it was, making his throat too tight to speak. Wade’s warm hands rubbed up and down Peter’s back soothingly.

“Peter, I want you to understand something,” Wade said, uncharacteristically solemn. “Even if you were so repulsed by sex that the mere thought of it made you ill, even if you were incapable of ever bearing to touch me, even if you could only ever see me as a friend…”

Wade pressed his face into Peter’s hair and filled his lungs with Peter’s scent before continuing. “So long as you cared about my people’s well being, and Ellie’s, and mine… Then you will always be part of this family. Nothing will ever change that. I promise.”

The emotion Peter felt at that was bright and intense. He had been promised a home. A family that would stay by his side. Somewhere he could always return to. Perhaps their family would never live up to Brals expectations, but Peter could care less. Maybe a husband wasn’t so bad because he was wanted. Maybe a daughter not his own was perfect because she looked out for him. Maybe a country full of dragons was the most accepting place he’d ever lived.

“Wade… Set the date.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some ancient cultures (even sexually progressive ones) believed that sucking cock was a bad thing because it befowled the mouth, and thus anything that the person said in the future. Being called a cocksucker was the equivalent of being called a shitposter in the middle of an intellectual debate. Fights would be had. Thus, blow jobs were rare outside of the sex workers in Floa Bral, and Peter had never experienced one prior to Wade. hehe
> 
> High alkaline soil produces earthy tasting root vegetables and greens. Basically anything bland. So areas like this have been known to develop spicier food, as sweeter and more aromatic foods are harder to come by. And when I say spicy, I mean SPICY. Rest in peace, Peter’s tongue, we barely knew thee.
> 
> In a conversation with a group of people discussing what it felt like to start living in an entirely different culture, food was the most prominent thing all of them mentioned that they missed. Even food that you didn’t like all that much became something you craved because it was so common and tied to your previous life. I felt it would be remiss if I didn’t add a little of that in here.
> 
> Disturbing but true historical facts about uses for urine: https://www.smithsonianmag.com/science-nature/from-gunpowder-to-teeth-whitener-the-science-behind-historic-uses-of-urine-442390/
> 
> Roots and branches were common toothbrush replacements back in the day (in areas that actually cared about tooth health). You can still use this method today if you’re curious:  
> http://www.methowvalleyherbs.com/2013/04/brush-your-teeth-with-roots.html  
> The Priestess and the licorice root was a subtle joke about how bad oral health was in Europe during the middle ages. Did anyone laugh? No? Just me? I'll see myself out...


	15. The Mountain Trial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm late! I'm late!  
> Sorry guys, I got sick and fell way behind on my writing schedule. I'm feeling better and hopefully I can catch up soon. This chapter is a little longer than usual. I had a lot to write about. XD Enjoy!
> 
> Since I ended up making Karusson and Paeyo a singular and plural word, I kept the theme with wyvern.

Kocrax did not suffer from harsh winters, they just ended up drier and cooler than normal with occasional sharp winds. Prior to that was a short rainy season in the middle of autumn. Because the weather could be unpredictable then, the bonding date was set for what was likely to be a warmer winter day. It would be after the short rainy season in the fall, before the long rainy season in the spring, and cool enough to be comfortable for those participating. It gave them a couple of months to prepare.

Wade also set two other dates in case it did rain or it was too cold. He also changed the feast plans a good five times. He sent multiple missives to the other cities to make sure there were no conflicts on his chosen dates. Nomark Masters threatened to fly to Whaytho himself and slap Wade if he didn’t stop sending letters about it. Not long after that, the person in charge of arranging the outfits for the ceremony stormed out of the palace and refused to return.

It was at that point that Peter had to step in. Wade seemed obsessed with the idea of everything being color coordinated, but couldn’t seem to pick a color. It took some time to figure out the root of the problem. Wade was trying to match the colors to his necklace, but the colors in the opal shifted depending on the light. When Peter pointed that out, Wade punched a random object and burst into tears.

“Why are you so upset over this?” Peter asked, baffled and exasperated.

“Because I want it to be perfect! Why don’t you want it to be perfect?!”

“Why does it _need_ to be perfect?”

“Because otherwise it won’t be special for you!” Wade stormed off in a huff.

Ellie, having overheard the argument, came up to Peter later and explained that her dad was a romantic and that it was all part of a gesture to show how much he cared since Peter had gifted the necklace. Well, that just made Peter feel like an ass. To make up for it, he visited the tailor that stormed out of the palace with strips of fabric that matched every color in the opal necklace.

“Is there a way to combine the colors into a pattern that works?”

The man frowned at the fabric and waved over his apprentice to look at it as well. They discussed it for awhile and the apprentice seemed to be encouraging a lot of ideas. Peter was grateful for her chipper attitude in the face of the tailor’s perpetual annoyance.

“It will take a lot of work and time, but it is doable. If I make this, it _cannot_ be rejected!” He crossed his arms and dared Peter to say otherwise.

Peter held up his hands in surrender. “I trust your expertise, and I know for a fact that this will fix everything. He just didn’t realize this was what he wanted.”

“And if he wakes up tomorrow with a different plan?” the tailor challenged.

“Then I’ll murder him myself and take over.”

The tailor burst out laughing and the apprentice snorted with mirth. They agreed to Peter’s compromise and set to work immediately. It was still a little baffling that offhand remarks about killing the chief were taken with humor instead of an arrest for treason, but it was the best way to get a Craxian to relax around Peter. They appreciated such harsh and taboo jokes. Peter was slowly overcoming his own misgivings and getting the hang of it.

Since the tailor had gone so well, Peter went to the cook afterwards and discussed what was needed for a feast and what the cook would recommend. The cook and her team were so thrilled to be asked their opinion and given the option to try new recipes and how it could be presented, that they ended up accosting Peter with an overabundance of ideas. He spent half the day with them and missed his training with Wade entirely without realizing the time.

When at last Peter made it back to their suite of rooms, it was to find Wade lying on the floor and staring morosely at the ceiling. Peter sighed and grabbed a cushion so he could sit down next to the man. Wade always had to be so overdramatic.

“I’m sorry that I missed practice,” Peter said. “Time got away from me.”

“I know…” Wade muttered. He heaved a great sigh. “You fixed everything in a day. Everyone hates me.”

“They do not. They are just aggravated. You need to be more decisive. You’re the _chief_ after all.”

Wade pouted. “How can you just pick something without debating it? There are so many options!”

“I found a compromise and I trusted the expertise of those who live by their craft.”

“I just…” Wade looked over at Peter with wide eyes full of emotion. “I want it to be special. D—” He swallowed and tried again. “Don’t you?”

“I do,” Peter promised. “That is why I worked to find something that would make _you_ happy.”

Wade looked on the verge of tears. “Really?”

Peter sighed and placed a hand on Wade’s. “This is my life now. It would be a waste not to make the best of it.”

Though Peter couldn’t profess any kind of deeper feelings for Wade, he _could_ admit that much. It was easier said than done, but he was working hard to live by that. He’d made up his mind on the matter and though many things still made him nervous, uncomfortable, or afraid, he was determined to keep pushing himself. He was nothing if not stubborn. His life was in Kocrax now, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to live it to the best of his ability.

Wade’s fingers threaded through Peter’s almost tentatively. He stared at Peter for a long beat of silence. “You said we were friends.”

“We are,” Peter agreed.

“Friends who have sex.”

Peter glanced away and took a deep breath. “That seems to be the case under the circumstances.”

“Do you like the sex?”

Closing his eyes, Peter took a moment to gather himself and stop his immediate need to fight Wade over the matter. It had become a strange sort of habit to argue with Wade, but Peter was determined to move past that. He had to if he was going to have any chance of making it through the bonding ceremony.

“Do you think I’m going to run?” Peter asked.

“No, I think you’re going to ignore me for days after, and I don’t think I can handle that.”

It was a raw and honest statement and Peter couldn’t blame Wade for thinking it. It wasn’t that long ago that Peter would have agreed. However, once he made up his mind, there was no going back on it. Wade would learn that with time. They were still getting used to one another, after all.

Peter leaned over until his face was hovering over Wade’s, their eyes locked and full of meaning. “I won’t ignore you,” Peter promised.

“What if you hate it?”

“I won’t ignore you.”

“What if you _like_ it?”

“I. Will not. Ignore. You.”

Wade brought his free hand up to brush through Peter’s hair. “Seal it with a kiss?”

“Fine.” Just to prove a point, Peter bent down to drop a quick kiss on Wade’s lips. Wade was not satisfied with that and held them together as his tongue pressed into Peter’s mouth, making lewd noises as it slid around. Peter let himself fall into it. He could admit that it felt nice. He could. That wasn’t a problem. It was all physical. It just felt nice. That was all.

Wade pushed himself up, hands roaming across Peter’s body. That felt nice, too. After all, it had been a long time since Peter had been intimate with anyone. There was only Wade now. It made sense that Peter would enjoy it. Perfectly normal.

Peter was pulled forward until he was straddling Wade’s lap. It put him higher than Wade, which was a rare occurrence. He controlled the kiss at that point. He could have stopped at any time, but he just didn’t feel like it. Wade needed to be comforted and calmed down from his frenzy. Peter was just being a good friend.

Large hands wrapped around and gripped Peter’s ass, squeezing and caressing like it was something worth touching. Peter blushed and tried to jerk away, but that just ended with him grinding into Wade’s lap. His nether regions were getting quite excited about the proceedings. Wade noticed, because of course he noticed.

Peter pulled his head back, panting for air, as Wade squished their hips tight together, the hard press of their arousal noticeable under the light fabric. Wade’s eyes were full of heat. Peter wasn’t certain how much further Wade wanted to push things. To be honest, Peter wasn’t so sure of that answer himself.

“Dinner will be soon,” Wade breathed.

“Then we should… get ourselves presentable.”

Wade snorted a laugh and dropped his head against Peter’s chest, taking a moment to quietly breathe in Peter’s scent. It still didn’t make sense why Wade decided that Peter smelled good, but Peter was learning to pick his battles. Wade’s habit of enjoying Peter’s musk was one of the least annoying things the man did.

“I’m going to visit Shiklah tomorrow,” Wade said. “Come with me.”

“Who?”

“My dragon.”

“Oh…” Peter knew Wade had visited with his dragon multiple times since arriving in Whaytho, but usually alone, or occasionally with Ellie.

“We’ll bring Ellie along and make a day of it. Shiklah stays near Sahmset Mountain, so it will be nice to run the horses and not be stuck in the palace all day.”

Not that Peter had that problem as much as Wade. Still, it would be nice to just ride for a few hours without having to worry about much else. Sahmset Mountain was the closest mountain to the city. Deep in its caverns resided the library. Perhaps they could visit that as well.

“Alright,” Peter said. “That sounds like a nice day.” Peter had been dealing with the baby dragons better recently. Wade’s fully trained dragon shouldn’t be much of a problem in comparison.

Wade pulled back with a grin, his entire demeanor changing in a matter of moments. “Perfect! Shiklah will love you!”

“Sure…”

Whatever mundane tasks kept Wade in a good mood was fine by Peter.

 

~*~

 

Ellie had her own horse that was very excited to see her. Bea was excited to see Peter as well since he’d made a point to visit her in the palace stables on a regular basis. Apparently, Wade had not had as much opportunity to do so because she shunned Wade completely and would only allow Peter to ride her. Wade grumbled but was ultimately a good sport about how smug Peter was over that. Wade borrowed a palace horse who looked like boredom incarnate and they headed out.

The ride was nice. They were able to give the horses the freedom to set their own pace. Only the three of them were riding, so it allowed them to travel quickly. The wind and freedom of a horseback ride without the fear of being held captive or attacked was a wonderful feeling. They didn’t even have to keep their lithams on that long as the dirt and sand slowly morphed into scraggly weeds and hard packed earth.

In the distance, Peter could see the large fields with their workers, caring for the land. They didn’t travel in that direction, instead heading northeast to Sahmset Mountain. They traveled for a few hours and Peter marveled at how the mountain seemed to just never get closer. It felt rather abrupt when the smudge of colors in the distance finally morphed into rocks and trees. Wade slowed them down to an easy trot as he led them over to an area where they could tether the horses.

“We’ll get closer to the mountain before I call her, but it’s best to keep the horses out of the way.”

“Does your dragon not get along with the horses?” Peter asked, starting feeling a bit more apprehensive.

“It’s not that,” Wade said. “It’s just that the horses don’t appreciate her size.”

Of course Wade had the biggest dragon. The chief had to be intimidating and have the largest everything. Peter rolled his eyes. The system of government grated on him. “Whoever has the biggest stick” was no way to run a country.

Once the horses were tethered, they continued on quite a distance by foot. Ellie was full of energy, bouncing around and asking if she could go visit her own dragon. Apparently, her dragon was being raised _inside_ Sahmset Mountain and Ellie would visit regularly for training. Peter asked about it.

“The chief rides a wyvern,” Wade explained. “We hold a single female wyvern inside the mountain so we can breed her when need be for whoever will take over as chief. Since wyverns and paeyo don’t get along, we keep them mostly separate. This large patch of fertile land is the boundary between flights. Wyvern prefer living in the mountains, but they can be very territorial.”

“My wyvern is only a few years old and a boy,” Ellie said, excited for the opportunity to talk about her dragon. “He’s grumpy sometimes, but we get along.”

“What’s his name?” Peter asked.

“He doesn’t have a name!” For whatever reason, Ellie looked extremely proud of that.

“You’ll have to name him before you can become chief,” Wade said.

Ellie stuck her nose in the air and crossed her arms, but she didn’t argue. Peter wasn’t sure why she was so reticent to name her dragon. She seemed just fine with the name her horse had. He didn’t have much time to think on it as Wade decided they had walked far enough. They were close to the beginning incline of the mountain, but still enough distance away to have a large amount of room for a dragon to land.

Wade unhooked a polished bone horn from his belt as he gazed up at the rocky mountain with its wide clumps of twisted trees. “Remember not to run. Running triggers hunting instincts.”

Peter frowned. He may have a healthy fear of dragons, but he hadn’t attempted to back away from one since that first day in the training cage. “I know what to do.”

“You say that now.” Wade raised the horn to his lips as Ellie snickered. Peter began to feel a little nervous about how much bigger Wade’s dragon was.

The blast from the horn was louder than Peter expected it to be. It easily carried over the distance and echoed up the mountain. Wade blew long bursts of sound, one after another. Hearing him blow the horn so many times with nothing happening was oddly eerie. It set Peter’s nerves on edge, anticipating what was to come.

The silence stretched, only the rustling of the wind could be heard after the echoes of Wade’s horn tapered off. Peter wondered how far the dragon regularly flew. Did it stay on the mountain or did it travel? What if it was out hunting and was nowhere near by to hear Wade’s call?

A resounding roar rumbled down the mountain. It was a sound unlike any Peter had heard before, as if the mountain itself was responding. A chill ran up his spine and his palms began to sweat. He couldn’t fathom what a beast would look like in order to make such a booming cry.

Wade blew the horn again and the roar answered, louder and closer that time. Ellie shaded her eyes and looked at the sky. Peter couldn’t bring himself to look up. All he could do was focus on the large shadow racing along the side of the mountain. His lips felt cold. He desperately hoped the sun was playing tricks on him by stretching the shadows beyond what they should be. Surely a dragon could not be so large.

Another roar rumbled overhead. Too loud. Too close. Peter’s feet stumbled backwards of their own accord. Ellie’s hand shot out and gripped his wrist. She shook a finger at him. Whatever words she meant to scold him with were lost in the pulsing beat of wings. Great gusts of wind raced along the scraggly grass, kicking up dirt and dust. Peter and Ellie both brought their arms up to protect their faces from stray pebbles.

Peter peered between his arms to see Wade standing further ahead, calmly watching a dragon as it landed before him. It was gigantic, at least four times the size of any paeyo Peter had seen. Its wings were massive and took up most of its body, stretching from the base of its neck to the base of its tail. The sun backlit the thick skin of its wings, making them glow. Five long bones worked through the wings, ending in deadly hooked claws.

The landing process was long. Peter realized that the wyvern had no front arms, just back legs covered in stretched skin with only its feet available to settle on the ground. Its tail whipped around wildly, trying to balance as it pitched forward and folded its wings, letting them wrap around themselves to form long folded arms that ended in those giant claws. In comparison, its torso was thin, as if it was made to always be in flight and have as little room as possible for the rest of its body. Still, it was as big around as a tree trunk.

When the dragon finally settled, it tossed its head back and blew out a breath that made the air shimmer with heat, bits of fire licking at the tough skin around its mouth. The dragon was _breathing fire._ It was big enough to see humans as barely a snack. How in the stars could Wade ride such a thing?

“Hey, sweetheart. How are you?” Wade grinned up at the terrifying beast like it was some cuddly pet.

A muted rumbling echoed in the dragon’s chest as it bent down to look at Wade. Long horns spiraled off the back of its head, causing it to appear all the larger for it. The wyvern’s skull was as big as Wade was tall, minus those giant horns. Its head dropped down and pushed against Wade’s back, pressing him into the long curved neck. Peter had a wild mental image of Wade being swallowed whole.

Wade’s scarred arms reached up and wrapped around the giant head, hands firmly rubbing against rough and bumpy skin. The dragon rubbed its face along Wade in return, over and over again, causing Wade to stumble more than once. He didn’t seem to mind, if his grin and laughter were anything to go by.

“I missed you, too. Have you been good?”

The dragon just rumbled and flicked its tail in response.

Peter felt rooted to the spot, his body arguing with itself on whether or not to run. He was completely certain that there was no controlling such a dragon. None at all. If one day someone irked it in the slightest, it could toss its head and end a life. A single thrash of its tail could decimate a house.

Become _partners_ with a dragon? It would be laughable if it weren’t so dangerous. It was a miracle that any Craxian was still alive in the face of such a creature. And they built the capital pressed up next to wyvern territory? What in all the stars were they thinking?

The dragon tilted its head, one large eye gazing hard at Peter: the stranger. He came very close to shitting himself in that moment.

Wade turned to Peter and held out a hand. Peter let his face show what he thought of that gesture since his lungs refused to fill enough to allow him to speak. Wade frowned. “I have to introduce you to her.”

A thousand incredulous remarks rushed through his mind but none managed to force their way out of his mouth. Ellie, the little betrayer that she was, planted her hands against Peter’s back and pushed, forcing his reluctant feet to stumble closer to his obvious death. A very unmanly noise built in his throat.

As Peter got closer, the dragon pulled back, looking down on them like it was prepared to snap them up and swallow them at any moment. When he was within reach, Wade took hold of Peter and pulled him close, wrapping study arms around Peter’s trembling frame. Wade pressed his face against Peter’s neck and slid his cheek up and across Peter’s and along his hair. It took a few moments for Peter to register how weird that was.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Peter whispered.

“I’m showing her that you’re my mate.” Wade repeated the move a few more times on both sides of Peter’s head. “You have to do it back.”

The last thing Peter wanted to do was rub his face all over Wade while getting sized up by a dragon, but if it prevented him from becoming a snack, he may as well follow instructions. Sucking in a shaky breath, Peter rubbed his face along Wade’s neck and up his cheek. Bits of stiff hair and soft scars made for an interesting contrast as Peter traveled along. The patches of hair along Wade’s head were softer, almost tickling his skin. Wade bent his head forward to make it easier for Peter to maneuver.

The second time Peter ran his face along Wade’s, Wade moved as well until they were in an odd sort of dance as they rubbed along each other. It felt both silly and intimate, and neither emotion was wanted in the face of the dragon’s hot breath rushing over them on every exhale. Peter felt almost lost in a mix of emotions that just shouldn’t have gone together.

When the dragon moved again, Peter panicked. Wade’s arms wrapped tight, keeping Peter in place as that large eye dropped down and hovered in front of Peter’s face. He forgot how to breathe. The head moved until big nostrils filled Peter’s vision. They huffed multiple times, blowing too hot air over him as the dragon sniffed. Seeming satisfied, the dragon dropped its head behind them and pulled the both of them back into its neck.

Peter made a panicked noise when the bumpy jaw rubbed along his back. “What is it doing?” he forcefully whispered.

“She’s claiming you as part of her family.” Wade, the bastard, had a wide grin on his face.

“ _What_?”

“I showed her that you’re my mate, so that makes you part of her family.”

“You and the dragon are _not related_.”

“She doesn’t know that.” Wade pressed his forehead against the side of the dragon’s face and it rumbled heartily in response. “She thinks I’m her child.”

“You’re crazy,” Peter hissed.

Wade chuckled and dropped a loud kiss against the dragon’s snout. “I haven’t told you the story of how I ended up with her.”

“Is this really an opportune time?” Peter was angry and panicked and there were dragon teeth the size of his hand _right by his head damn it._

“Hiiii, Shiklah!” Ellie called as she stepped up next to them. The dragon rumbled again and started nuzzling Ellie. She giggled and wiggled around, rubbing on the dragon as much as it was rubbing against her.

“I think listening to the story will help.” Wade smirked as he held Peter close and snuggled them together.

“I wanna hear it again!” Ellie said.

“The only way to defeat a chief and take over leadership is in official combat with dragons. Since paeyo are too small to win against a wyvern, one must go into the Scoajan Mountains and tame a wild wyvern in order to bring it back and duel against the current chief and the wyvern they have grown up with.”

Peter gaped at Wade. “You did… what?”

Wade grinned and laid his head against the dragon’s snout. It chuffed at him. “I asked for the Queen Mother’s blessing to start the Mountain Trial, walked to and climbed the mountains on foot, and lived there for many years until I found Shiklah.”

“How are you even alive?” Peter couldn’t even wrap his head around that.

Wade laughed. “At first, stubbornness. Then… hard lessons…”

 

~*~

 

_Wade leaned against a boulder as he knocked ice off the bottom of his boots. “Hey, Rocky, how ya doin’?” The boulder, of course, didn’t answer, but Wade was unperturbed. Rocky had been pretty quiet since his wife had rolled down the mountain for another boulder. “Any good gossip lately? I heard Rocksanne was gettin’ around. You should hit that up. She’s a fine lookin’ rock, and you need to get back on the horse, if you know what I mean.”_

_In the distance, a wyvern bellowed a sound Wade recognized. After so long living in the mountains, one had to learn what the different calls meant. It was a challenge from a male dragon, the smaller of the species. Though, smaller was a relative term. Wade perked up at the sound of it._

_“Ya hear that, Rocky? There’s gonna be a fight. That’s good meat if one of ‘em dies.” Wade slapped the boulder on its nonexistent shoulder. “I’ll see ya later, buddy.”_

_The prospect of food gave Wade renewed energy. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten anything other than snow. It could have been two hours ago, it could have been two days ago. Time was irrelevant to him anymore. All he could focus on was trying to survive. At least he was mostly healed after his previous run in with a wyvern’s claws._

_Wade had learned the hard way that taming a wyvern wasn’t like taming a paeyo. He’d tried multiple different approaches to it, but they just refused to submit to him. Even feeding them was little help in the long run. They just thought Wade was trying to distract them from a fresher meal, namely him._

_Granted, he’d never been that good at dragon taming in the first place. He didn’t have a great temperment for it. Too aggressive, he was always told. You can’t strong arm them into listening to you, they said. He just didn’t have the patience to wait around until they finally decided to work with him._

_Which, of course, made him a shit choice to enter into the Mountain Trial. He’d half expected Queen Mother to refuse and lock him up just in case he tried to leave anyways. He’d just lost his wife and spent a long few months in a drunken stupor because of it. He hadn’t really cared if he lived or died in the mountains, at least he was doing something instead of sitting there and watching the city slowly fall apart around him._

_Perhaps that sentiment was why Queen Mother agreed. Nobody else had lost enough to feel the Mountain Trial was worth taking on. They just kept plotting behind the chief’s back and hoping for the best. Well, Wade was tired of waiting around for something to change._

_The roars of fighting wyverns grew close, and Wade stayed in a crouch as he moved, determined to stay hidden among the rocks. One of the males was flying around in front of a cave entrance, his tail whipping around and landing blows on the wyvern who refused to take flight. Ah, so it was a fight over a nest. The males would guard nests whenever the females needed to go eat._

_The nest must have been close to another unmated wyvern’s territory. Whenever that happened, the unmated wyvern would fly around and destroy the local nests to prevent him from being overrun and pushed from his own territory by growing hatchlings. It was good luck for Wade. If the unmated male won, then that was not only dragon meat, it was dragon eggs as well._

_“Steak and eggs sound like bliss…” Wade mumbled to himself, mouth already watering at the thought. He crept closer. If they both took flight, he could sneak in and steal an egg just in case the defending dragon ran the other off. “Mmmm, eggs.”_

_The mated dragon landed a hard blow with his tail, sending the other spiraling out of control. That was when he decided to take flight and give chase, taking advantage of the other’s disorientation to get the upper hand and end things quickly. Wade didn’t waste his chance and bolted for the mouth of the cave._

_It was spacious inside, as it would have to be to contain two wyvern and a nest of eggs. The stone around him was warm, the parents’ breath heating it to a cozy temperature. Wade clung to the wall and made his way to the eggs with single minded focus. He could already see them sizzling in a pan over an open fire…_

_A bellowing scream echoed through the cavern. Wade’s head snapped over to the cave’s entrance, but it was not the father returning to protect his nest. It was the attacking male, covered in wounds, but victorious all the same. Wade frantically looked around for an exit, but he was trapped. There was nowhere to run._

_A landing wyvern no longer needs the fire in them to keep warm. Contrary to popular belief, the closer one gets to the sun, the colder it is, which was why wyverns produced and held heat within them. The problem came when they landed. The male wyvern blew its excess fire straight ahead and into the cave. Wade tried to dodge it, he did, but there was nowhere to go._

_His clothes caught fire, the searing pain both overwhelming and numbing all at once. That wasn’t a good sign. He dropped to the ground and clawed at his clothes, ripping them from his burning skin. The rock beneath him was hot, almost too hot to stand. He beat at himself frantically, trying to put out the fires that had ignited from the hair on his head, down his beard, and across his body hair. He couldn’t breathe though the heat of it. Maybe he would suffocate before the flames consumed him._

_He didn’t notice the dragon’s tail smashing the eggs in their nest, nor did he notice when the beast turned to him, ready to use him as a restorative snack. He did notice when the wyvern was abruptly pulled from the cave and a rush of cold air howled through the opening. The icy air on his ravaged skin was blindingly painful._

_The momma wyvern had returned to find her clutch and her mate dead. She was not happy. She ripped into the intruder with a ferocity due to a grieving mother. Wade hardly took notice. He had managed to strip himself of his clothes and pat out the fire left on his skin, but that left him shaking uncontrollably and half out of his mind with pain._

_He looked up to see the goopy remains of the eggs and all Wade could think of was how nice that would feel against his skin. Ears rushing and vision dark around the edges, Wade painstakingly crawled to the nest, pain lighting up his every movement. The world tilted and swirled around him._

_When he collapsed, he was surprised to find that it was at his destination. The egg yolks stuck to his skin in odd ways. He didn’t care. He just rolled in it, desperately seeking relief, though it did little to help. Pained whimpers leaked from his throat, followed by ragged gasps of air. He let the tears flow freely in hopes that hey would also help, but they only served to sting his skin. He wanted to scream, but that would require too much energy._

_Stupid. He was so stupid. What else did he expect to happen? He’d wanted this outcome, had he not? That was why he’d gone to the mountains in the first place. To convince himself and others that he was actually doing something with his life instead of just longing for oblivion while knowing that his country would continue to suffer for years to come._

_As much as he’d told himself that his actions were worth something, that as long as he fought to survive in the mountains then he wasn’t useless, it truly meant nothing. He had accomplished only what he’d wanted all along — death._

_Wade closed his eyes and accepted his fate. Giving up wouldn’t earn him any favors from the gods, but he could care less. If they wanted him to accomplish something, perhaps they should have flown down and offered some assistance long ago. Where was Sakit when her children needed her? Certainly not here. Not here…_

_Though Wade couldn’t even claim to have slept, he woke abruptly to morning light and a flare of pain as something dragged across his skin. A desperate, wounded noise ripped from his throat and a deep rumble came in response. He slit his eyes open with effort and looked around in blurred confusion until his vision finally focused on the giant presence in front of him — a wyvern._

_Wade jerked and tried to move away on instinct but his body rebelled. He collapsed again and groaned, his whole body seizing up from pain. The wyvern made a mournful sound and stuck her tongue out to lick him. It took a long few moments for Wade to realize that the wyvern wasn’t trying to taste her meal, but was cleaning him._

_Letting his head loll to the side, he noticed the twisted fetuses about his size surrounded by broken egg shells. They were nowhere near ready to hatch and they were now lifeless. The only one moving in the decimated nest was Wade._

_It took longer than he cared to admit to put two and two together._

_On the upside, momma dragon wasn’t going to kill him. On the downside, he wouldn’t be able to leave. Well, he likely wouldn’t have been able to leave either way. Leaving meant moving and he was certainly not capable of that at the moment. But then what? Would he just lay in the nest and die of starvation and pain?_

_The answer came abruptly in the form of momma dragon shuffling to the cave entrance, taking in a mouthful of snow, and dumping it next to Wade to form a puddle. The snow had already melted from the heat of her mouth. How convenient. Wade painstakingly rolled to his side and sucked at the little pool of water, realizing that he was in fact desperate for it. The wyvern rumbled at him in a pleased way._

_Thus set up the next blur of time for Wade. The wyvern would bring him water and fish that was fully cooked from her breath by the time she made it back to the cave. She never left for long, terrified of another interloper attacking her nest. It took its toll on her, causing her to sleep more and drop weight. Still, she refused to leave Wade alone._

_The healing process was not easy. Wade spent most of his days in pain and found the wyvern’s deep rumble to be comforting during those times. He couldn’t tell if he liked the heat or the cold more, or which ended up more painful to his skin, but eventually he just got used to it. The pain was shoved to the back of his mind as a constant neverending fact of life, and he learned how to refocus on the world around him._

_When Wade began to move around, momma wyvern was at first anxious and then encouraging. She seemed aware that he would never be able to fly and thankfully didn’t encourage him to learn by pushing him off a cliff like most mothers did. Instead, she just compensated for his apparent disabilities by hunting and flying for him._

_The seasons shifted, though it was not as noticeable as high up in the mountains as they were. Wade often wondered how long he’d been gone, but determined that it didn’t matter. It was a lot less time than if he was dead, after all. And eventually, his wounds healed. He was permanently scarred and mangled, but momma wyvern didn’t seem to mind and loved him all the same. Wade took comfort in that._

_It eventually clicked that Wade could do more than just be taken care of. Perhaps it wasn’t the most conventional way to tame a wyvern, but momma wyvern was the best shot he had. Or maybe it_ was _how one tamed a wyvern and Wade had just been too stubborn to see it in the past. Either way, when Wade first climbed on the giant wyvern’s back, she got the idea pretty quick._

 _She was always careful, going step by step to make sure Wade could learn how to hold on and never pushing him longer than she thought his strength would hold out. That was for the best since he overestimated his capabilities after nearly a year stuck in a cave, but she certainly_ under _estimated him with how overprotective she was. Of the two of them, she was more correct in her assessment._

_So yet again, it took many seasons for Wade to get his strength up and for momma wyvern to finally believe he was capable of more complicated forms of flight. For the first time in a long time, Wade found himself smiling. He’d made warm clothes from animal skins he’d cured himself and worked hard to learn how to ride without any man made aids. That effort paid off when they flew high, high enough to feel dizzy and for air to be so cold it hurt to breathe. Still, he felt happy and free, surrounded by clouds and gazing so far into the distance his eyes couldn’t even make out what he was seeing._

_And then… Well… Then, Wade got complacent. He was happy in the mountains with momma wyvern. He was unconcerned about anything for the first time in a long time. It was an easy life, despite everything. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to stay there. Convincing momma wyvern to leave her territory would be hard, right? They could just live where they were. Two souls who had lost their entire family helping each other to stay happy. It was fine the way things were._

_In the face of Wade’s complacency came the first time he’d truly respected his religion. A storm unlike any Wade had experienced prior raged outside the mouth of the cave. Hard balls of ice pelted the entrance and bounced inside. Lightning was unrelenting and turned the world brighter than even the sun could. The thunder shook the very mountain and echoed around the chamber until Wade felt deaf from it._

_Momma wyvern shielded him from the worst of it with her body and her breath kept them warm and dry in the face of the storm’s wrath. Then, before Wade’s very eyes, a[giant orb](http://static.nautil.us/12837_30b1b5b6990012b272d5251f6a31489c.jpg) appeared within sight of the cave, hovering in the air, slowly traveling through the clouds. An eye made of lighting, with crackles of light snapping off in various directions around it. His skin crawled with the power of it as it stared at him. _

_Wade had challenged Sakit for help the day he was burned. Now Arev was demanding he do something with what was given. For the first time in a long time, Wade prayed. He stood up and shouted his intent to the wind. Thunder boomed in response. The next day, Wade named his dragon and asked for her help. Together, they flew to Whaytho and challenged the chief. They won._

 

~*~

 

Peter gazed at Shiklah with new eyes. He couldn’t imagine surviving what Wade had, nor could he fathom the bond between the two of them. It turned out that Wade was right, the dragon really did see him as her child. Perhaps she was happy to let him live in a city full of people who looked more like himself than other dragons.

Cautiously, Peter reached out and placed his hand on her nose. The skin was rough, bumpy, and warm. The large eye blinked at him slowly as she continued to happily rumble at the trio. After hearing the history between her and Wade, Peter felt like he could better understand why dragons were treated as far more intelligent than other beasts.

“A wyvern is colored like the mountains,” Wade said, watching Peter examine Shiklah’s skin. “Snow and rocks are all that’s up there if you get high enough. It helps them blend in and have a better chance of hunting prey. Though, the best nesting spots are near the ocean where they can fish. Females can fly long distances, so they usually take to the sea to eat their fill.”

“Did you see the ocean during your time in the mountains?” Peter asked.

“I did.”

“What’s it like?” Peter had never had the chance to visit such a place. His life had never taken him near the endless expanse of water.

“Big.” Wade chuckled. “Seeing the colors change at sunset is quite the sight… If you learn how to ride double on her, I’ll take you.”

Peter’s emotions were at war with each other as he considered that. The thought of traveling so far, of seeing things so few other people would ever experience, of _flying…_ Something deep within him yearned for those things. The logical side of him screamed about how dangerous it was. It was hard to argue that.

“We’ll take it slow.” Wade had a knowing look in his eyes as if he could read Peter like an open book. “We can start with just how to stay balanced on her back. We’ll walk around in a circle. It’s a lot different from how to balance on a smaller dragon like a karusson or paeyo.”

“Daaad!” Ellie gave them a bored look. “If you’re going to do that, can I go visit _my_ dragon?”

Wade rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

With a giant grin, Ellie took off running, barely throwing a word of thanks over her shoulder.

“Remember he’s temperamental!” Wade called after her.

“I know!”

“Remember babies can still breathe fire!”

“I _know,_ dad!” She kept running like she was trying to outpace Wade’s fretting.

“Are you sure she should go alone?” Peter asked, worrying himself in the face of Wade’s unusual nervousness.

“She’s fine.” Wade nodded like he was trying to convince himself. “I’m just paranoid because I didn’t have a lot of good experiences with the boys in the mountains. They’re not nearly as calm.”

The skin under Peter’s hand moved as Shiklah shuffled around and started nuzzling the two of them again. Peter told himself to stop being afraid, but it took a while to release the tension in his shoulder. He tried to focus on something else.

“How long were you in the mountains?”

“Over five years. I know only because that was how old Ellie was when I returned.”

Peter’s eyes grew wide. “I don’t understand.” In Wade’s story, he’d said that he had no further family to leave behind.

“My previous wife had no children before she died. She didn’t want to bring any into the world while there was no guarantee of keeping them fed. I agreed. Before I left for the mountains, a woman approached me and said that she wanted to send me off with love and luck. I slept with her only once, but that was all it took. She gave her life to keep Ellie fed and I returned to a daughter I never knew I had.”

“I know a lot of men who wouldn’t have claimed such a child,” Peter murmured, his respect for Wade steadily growing.

“That’s some horse shit. Floa Bral has some serious issues with their idea of family. No offense.”

Peter snorted. “None taken.” It was true, after all. Peter may have had a loving and altruistic family, but others were not so lucky.

“It doesn’t matter how a child is born, if they’re part of your family, then they’re part of your family. Do you remember when I said you could take a different lover in the future?”

Peter looked away. “Yes.”

“Just to be clear, I don’t mean that to be some secret tryst. I mean that the either of us can openly bring another partner into our family.”

 _What?_ Peter’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. He gaped at Wade and tried to figure out what to say but all that came out was, “ _What_?”

Wade shook his head. “That’s what I thought. Brals have too many rules for relationships, you know that? The point is, if you’re a family of three or four or five, then the child is everyone’s. Kids don’t lack for parents in Kocrax, which is why I’ve done everything to make up for the fact that Ellie managed to end up parentless for so long.”

Peter suddenly recalled the conversation months ago when Peter had threatened to take a mistress and Wade’s response was far from expected.

_“You’ll have to wait a year after the bonding ceremony for the lover thing, though. For the sake of appearances and all that.”_

He thought back to the parade upon their return and the men who greeted infants without any confusion or anger. Wade wasn’t worried about Peter’s desire to be with a woman of his choosing. He simply thought that Peter would bring that person into the family with them. Wade was happy with Ellie having all the parents should could handle.

They both looked up to Shiklah as she shook out her wings and resettled against the dirt. She was not built for walking across flat ground, that much was obvious. Still, she seemed more than content to be a little uncomfortable so long as she could spend time with them.

“Well…” Peter avoided Wade’s gaze as he ran his hand along one of Shiklah’s spiraling horns. “Ellie has two parents and two grandparents now.”

Peter had barely gotten the words out before his mouth was crushed by Wade’s lips and tongue. He stiffened at the sudden attack, but let himself relax into it. Shiklah chuffed at them, like she was amused. Wade was far too emotional at times, but Peter realized that he never really tried to correct the behavior. He liked knowing how things affected Wade. He liked knowing how _he_ affected Wade.

“I—” Wade stopped the words he had almost spoken against Peter’s lips. He paused for a long time as he rethought what to say. “Thank you for being here.”

Peter felt his face heat and blamed it on Shiklah’s warm breath. “Of course…”

“Come on.” Wade took hold of Peter’s hand and pulled them to the base of Shiklah’s neck. She bent down lower to grant them easier access. Peter balked, but Wade encouraged Peter to climb on first. “Don’t worry. We can’t fly yet, but we can walk around.”

“Right, sure, fine…” Peter ignored his rapidly beating heart and scrambled up onto Shiklah’s long body. Wade followed right behind. Even if they weren’t flying, they were still further up off the ground than Peter ever thought he’d be when riding an animal.

They practiced until the sun began turn the land deep oranges as it set. Ellie came to get them, her stomach already reminding her that dinner should be soon. Peter was happy to report that he hadn’t fallen off once, and Wade was happy to correct that Peter had _almost_ fallen off twice. Shiklah was a tad reluctant to see them go, but ultimately didn’t follow when Wade led the way back to the horses. Peter watched over his shoulder as she made her way back to the mountain and began to hook her claws around the trees as she climbed, her body like moving rock as it slid under the branches.

Sometimes, Peter had a hard time even fathoming what his life had become.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So as I linked in the fic, what Wade saw in the storm was ball lightning. Dunno if you've noticed, but I've been carefully walking the line of natural phenomenon, coincidence, and divine intervention. lol It will continue that way. Whether gods exist in this story is up to the individual characters and the readers. ;-p
> 
> Wyverns don't breath fire-fire, they breathe extremely hot air that ignites things upon initial contact, including any dirt, insects, or debris around their mouths. The longer they hold that heat in them, the hotter it will be when exhaled. So a flying dragon will breathe hotter air, but usually won't until it lands and needs to cool off. Wade was lucky to know by that point to hold his breath, or else the rush of heat itself would have harmed his lungs, like what happens when you breathe in after opening a door to fire on the other side. (That's why they tell you not to do it during a house fire and escape out the window instead.)
> 
> Male wyvern are twice as big as a paeyo and females are three times as big as a paeyo. They have armored and textured tails that they use for gripping onto rocks in icy climates and for attack/defense. They are the largest dragon species and can fly the longest/farest. Their horns are technically antlers because they are hollow and fall off with the seasons, after which they will grow newer ones that are slightly bigger based on their body's growth. The palace is decorated with a lot of them. Males tend to grow horns with more twists and spirals in order to attract females.
> 
> I think if I was writing this as a book, I'd start the chapters with notes from a book on Kocrax about the culture and dragon anatomy to replace my author notes. XD
> 
> So I didn't like any of the wyvern references I found and decided to base them off of bats. [Look](https://blogs.biomedcentral.com/on-biology/wp-content/uploads/sites/5/2017/03/70379275-MDT_120824_TH3_7669-Edit-Edit-620x339.jpg) [at](https://kids.nationalgeographic.com/content/dam/kids/photos/articles/Other%20Explore%20Photos/Moment%20of%20Galleries/Yikes/yikes-vampirebat.adapt.945.1.png) [these](http://dreamicus.com/data/bat/bat-02.jpg) [tiny](https://cdn-images-1.medium.com/max/1200/1*bPidjLPhvG9zTUnF_HBRKQ.jpeg) [fury](http://i.telegraph.co.uk/multimedia/archive/01633/bat-reflection_1633872i.jpg) [dragons](https://78.media.tumblr.com/022e6e7264699756afffadf2abb813a2/tumblr_p55mk7hQlz1vi13qbo1_540.jpg).
> 
> (I have spoken to this artist, discussed this with them, have permission from them to show this picture, have permission to talk about this picture, have permission to note and link to the artist who drew it, and am in continuous contact with this artist. Thank you.)


	16. Chapter 16 - The Bonding Ceremony - Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp. Since I am trapped in bed with a pinched nerve and can't move my head and my left arm, I got plenty of time to edit! So here we go with part one!
> 
> Floa Bral: _Peter’s home country, known for its prosperous lands._  
>  Brals: _Citizens of Floa Bral_  
>  Droana: _Capital of Floa Bral_
> 
> Kocrax: _Wade’s home country, known for being the only nation with dragons._  
>  Craxians: _Citizens of Kocrax._  
>  Swujan: _The province that Wade leads._  
>  Whaytho: _Current capital of Swujan province._

Peter stood alone in the middle of a sizeable paved courtyard some distance away from the city. A huge sandstone sculpture of Sakit loomed over him. It twisted and curled around itself, multiple wings stretched, cavernous mouth open wide. An abandoned birds nest was left in its jaws and green algae from the recent rains climbed up the square base. A few bugs hummed around or were settled along the twisting body, a stray lizard aiming to make them a meal.

The sight of such things would lend Peter to believe that the statue wasn’t taken care of, but that didn’t seem to be the case. Queen Mother had said that Sakit was a nurturer of life and thus life should be allowed on her visage. So all the little things stayed, taking safe harbor in her shrine.

The bonding ceremony was tomorrow. The months had passed in a way that felt too long and too fast all at once. Peter had spent his time learning as much as he could of his new country and the people in it. He had also learned much about Wade, who was an enigma in his own right. Or perhaps… it was just Peter causing his own confusion, always waiting for Wade to act how he perceived he should. Wade, of course, never did.

And now they had reached the first part of the ceremony with Peter feeling completely unprepared. They had both been sent to opposite sides of the city to visit the giant statues. Wade had gone to Arev, and Peter had gone to Sakit. Queen Mother had instructed that Peter should speak with the god about whatever he felt that he needed to. There were no further instructions given and no answers forthcoming when Peter had pressed for details.

So there he was, alone but for his thoughts and a giant statue. He looked up at it with no small amount of trepidation. He felt stupid speaking aloud to it when there were no true ears to hear him, but Queen Mother had insisted. So Peter fretted at his lip and considered what he would say if gods actually existed and cared to listen.

“I grew up under the care of Saint Benjamin, and I always strived to be the person my Uncle Ben wanted me to be. He was a good person, the best person I ever knew and will probably ever meet. I felt… unworthy of him. I felt like a fraud in my own life.”

Peter remembered all the times Uncle Ben had sat him down and tried to counsel him in modesty, humility, and letting go of his pride. Everyone around Peter had been so calm and collected. Even in the midst of his loving family, short lived as it was, he’d felt set apart from them.

“This anger that burns inside of me… The need to lash out at those that harm me or mine… It was unseemly. It wasn’t how noblemen should act. I was told it was something to overcome, a lesson I needed to learn, given to me by divine purpose — though all of my attempts led me nowhere but here. I couldn’t help but feel it was unfair.”

Then Kocrax happened, a place where all the things Peter had been told to keep hidden were encouraged to be worn full force on the surface. He still couldn’t tell what was the right course of action. Or if there ever _was_ a proper course. Maybe nobody really knew what was best and everyone was just floundering through life.

“I could never understand why Saint Benjamin would give me a soul and a life that harbored this… this _fire_ in me. And then here I am being told that I was chosen by a god not even of my lands, that I didn’t even know existed until recently.”

Peter scoffed and fidgeted as he looked anywhere but at the statue. “If gods are real, if you are deciding my fate, then who was it that took my family from me? Was it _you_ who decided that I must lose everything in order for destiny to push me here? Or was it all happenstance? Or is fate just something we say to placate our fears of the unknown and there is no force out there that would have been able to stop everyone dying right in front of me, no matter how pious I was?”

Taking a moment to close his eyes and breathe, Peter shoved his emotions back down inside of him, determined not to cry in front of a silent statue of an animal long dead. Swallowing down the tightness in his throat, Peter decided to refocus on the reason he was there.

“But I suppose I should be talking about something — or someone — specific. Tomorrow… I’ll be permanently tied to Chief Wade Wilson…”

The thought still brought panic to Peter, but it was different than it had been at the beginning. There were other emotions wrapped up inside of him, many that he’d yet to evaluate. Perhaps now was as good a time as any.

“I suppose… I’m afraid. A home, a family, a place to belong… All of it is being dangled in front of me. But what happens if I take it? How long before it all falls apart. What happens when Wade realizes I’m not as useful as he believes me to be? What if I will never be able to pass as a native of this land? When will everyone start rejecting me and seeing me as just the tedious lost soul that needs to be taken care of?”

He clenched his hands at his sides and pushed on. “I _want_ to have a family again. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. But… But I won’t be able to handle losing it again. I won’t survive it.”

Rays of sunlight streamed into the open jaws of the statue's mouth, glinting off the bared teeth, the imperfections in the stone catching the light and making it sparkle. Peter stared at it, thinking about all he’d learned about the various gods. Perhaps he prefered what he knew of Ts’av, but if he was tied to Sakit and her blessing…

“I’m told you are protective of your family and the earth. Your wrath is not of fire and revenge like Arev’s, but of unrelenting and all consuming destruction in order to build anew. If that is true, then perhaps we are more alike than I initially wanted to believe. I know that you do not hear prayers in the same manner that I am used to, but if you are real, if you did take me as one of your own, then please…”

Peter reached out and ran his fingers lightly over the rough stone scales of her body. “Please… Do not leave me without a home again…” he whispered.

Something brushed Peter’s foot. He looked down and froze at the sight of a snake nearly as long as he was tall. It slithered past him without a care, lifting up to set itself on the base of the statue. Peter reached for his dagger in painfully slow movements so as not to startle it. He gripped the handle, but paused, torn between wanting to behead the giant thing and not wanting to get in trouble.

Not only was it seen as wasteful to kill an animal and leave it, it was disrespectful in front of a statue devoted to the mother of all creatures in Kocrax. Even snakes were considered a wingless form of dragon. But more than that, snakes were considered almost holy in Kocrax, silent messengers of Sakit herself, be that message good or bad.

The snake wound its way around and through the looping form of Sakit until it was halfway up the statue. It settled down in a heavy beam of sunlight and stilled, basking in the warmth. Peter took a few careful steps back to make sure he was out of strike distance before relearning how to breathe.

The Queen Mother had encouraged Peter to look for signs during his conversation with Sakit. She had insisted that the smallest thing could be a hint that Sakit was listening and what she thought of Peter’s soul. If the snake was a sign or not, Peter couldn’t say. And if it was, he didn’t know what it meant.

Still, despite Peter’s disbelief in any higher powers, he stared at the snake now drowsily curled up in its Mother’s embrace. The snake held no fear of humans and thus no animosity. It lay content against a representation of its means for existence. A messenger traveling with a sense of safety and calm despite how dangerous it could be.

A coincidental sign in response to Peter’s need for a home.

Though it was not a Craxian custom, Peter clutched his fist to the center of his chest and bowed. “Thank you,” he whispered, just in case anyone was listening. Then, he turned and made the long trek back to the palace.

 

~*~

 

Though it was exactly what Peter had asked of the tailor, he’d never worn anything so colorful in his life. As well as the patterns blended, it would have been considered garish in Droana. Simple and classic tones with accessories to match were always in fashion, and the trend for dark jewel tones had been going for years. In Kocrax, however, it was either undyed, earth tones, or bright colors. _Really_ bright colors.

The outfit was loose and layered with baggy fabric, as Peter had expected since that was a common style. It had a very complicated set of ties that he thankfully didn’t have to work out on his own. The tailor himself was arranging the garment on Peter, making sure the layers of patterned panels sat just so. The sleeves, though they hung to the ground, were split straight up to the shoulders, allowing for a lot of movement.

If it weren’t for the freedom of his head and arms, Peter would have felt like he was drowning in the thing. At least it wasn’t heavy. He stayed silent and moved around as instructed while the tailor worked and made some last minute adjustments.

Nerves fluttered in his stomach and his chest felt tight. He had a basic rundown of the ceremony, and the _intimate_ parts weren’t going to happen until nightfall which was still hours away. Nevertheless, everything else still made him anxious. He couldn’t help thinking back to the first marriage. How humiliating it had been and how they’d tied him up and manhandled him around.

As much as he had expected such treatment from Craxians upon his first meeting with them, his experience now was the complete opposite. He was an active participant in setting up the ceremony and willingly giving himself over to a man… on various levels. Peter sucked in a deep and calming breath, telling himself that he had been intimate with Wade already and things had turned out fine. It would all be fine.

“It’s normal to be nervous before a bonding,” the tailor casually spoke up and Peter paled a little at how obvious his emotions must have been. “You always end up thinking about what could go wrong, or wondering if meshing your soul with another person is the best thing to do.”

 _Oh, yes, thanks for reminding me of that part as well,_ Peter groused to himself.

“But believe me, everything will go as it should. It will be beautiful. The whole province will be praying for your happy marriage tonight, so you have nothing to fret over.”

Peter attempted a wobbly smile. “Of course… thank you.” Also something he didn’t want to be reminded of: damn near the entire province having sex outdoors to celebrate his bonding.

The tailor stepped back and assessed his work. “Perfect! You look absolutely vibrant!”

 _With these colors? I bet._ Peter smiled politely. “That is all thanks to you.”

The tailor swelled with pride. “We just need the finishing touches.” He brought over a box of items. Peter realized belatedly that it contained various cosmetics. He had seen the well bred women of Floa Bral wear such things at fêtes, but never assumed he’d end up having it applied to himself. “We’ll use a little kohl to bring out your eyes, and a little rouge on your cheekbones and lips. You need something to counter how pale you are.”

“Right…” Peter closed his eyes and told himself to let it be. The last person he wanted to upset was the tailor after all that had happened.

“I can only hope my apprentice doesn’t get caught up in the chief’s excitement and paint his entire face.”

Peter’s eyes snapped open. “What?”

The tailor gave Peter a long suffering look. “It wouldn’t be the first time. If he buys more cosmetics, hide them from him if the servants don’t get to it first.”

Of course Wade would go overboard with such things, particularly with his concerns about his appearance. Peter shouldn’t have been surprised. Besides, Kocrax could care less who wore what and in what manner. Peter had been learning that the hard way. He closed his eyes again and allowed the tailor to finish darkening his eyelids.

All too soon, Peter was being escorted down the bright halls of the palace towards the large platform that stood out front, the same one Peter had briefly been on the day of the contingent’s return to the capital. He stared out the large windows to the crowd beyond. So many were gathered to oversee the union between the chief and his wife. Nervousness roiled in his stomach again and sweat gathered at the base of his neck.

“Peter?”

He looked up to see Wade coming down the hall in the opposite direction. The same colorful layers of fabric covered Wade, but in contrasting ways. The cut suited his larger frame and billowed around him as he walked. There was a hoop of metal that sat at his sternum, the cloth surrounding it, but leaving the middle empty but for skin and the broken piece of opal on its simple chain.

“You look really nice,” Wade beamed as he came to a stop in front of Peter.

“You do as well.” It was true. The cacophony of colors somehow suited Wade.

“You nervous?”

Peter offered a wobbly smile. “I never expected to have a time in my life where so many people would just be… staring at me.”

Wade smirked. “And you wanted me to go around and make speeches.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Just because it’s nerve wracking, doesn’t mean it can be avoided.”

“You said it, not me.”

As much as Peter wanted to be annoyed, a smile was tugging at his lips. The familiar banter had helped to relax him in a way he hadn’t expected. Wade always found a way to make sure Peter would be okay. What a thing to realize on the day of the ceremony.

The rapid slapping of sandals came barreling towards them. They looked to find a very excited Ellie, her outfit rustling around her as she ran, a smile almost splitting her face. Wade held out his arms and she almost launched into them before skidding to a stop last minute, panting for breath.

“The tailor said he’d make me spin yarn for a year if I messed up your clothes!”

Peter snorted as Wade pouted. “Hug later?”

“Hug later!” Ellie promised. “Are you ready?!”

“I was born ready!” Wade declared.

Ellie held out both hands in front of her, palms up. Wade laid one of his hands on top of hers without hesitation. They both turned to look at Peter. He took a deep breath and slowly reached out to place his hand on Ellie’s left. Just like that, they were being walked out into the bright sunlight.

The Queen Mother stood at the edge of the platform, flanked by two Priestesses and facing their way, backs to the large gathered crowd. Some of Wade’s personal guards stood at the sides and watched the mass of people, but they didn’t seem to expect any trouble. They grinned at the trio as they passed. The crowd made a lot of noise at their entrance, shouting things in overlapping voices that made it impossible to discern. Bits of ribbon fluttered in the air as people waved them around in excitement.

Ellie deposited the two of them in front of Queen Mother and then took up a spot surrounded by a group of Priestesses that stood off to the side. Peter hoped that his nervousness hadn’t been noticed by Ellie in his trembling fingers and sweaty palms. Not that anyone else would suspect his emotions. He kept his head high and his shoulders back, face a professional and placid neutral that he had perfected over the years to display a solid confidence that he didn’t feel.

Nevertheless, this ceremony, unlike the one in Floa Bral, was his choice. The planning of it, the preparation he had done, and walking out to participate was of his own free will. Wade had given him plenty of opportunity to avoid it. Peter had followed through anyways. He’d made a promise, and not just to Wade, but to the people of Kocrax who desperately needed aid.

“We gather today to see two souls bonded before the eyes of our nation!” Queen Mother said, her voice carrying across the area. The crowd settled down and went quiet. “To bond means to meld your souls and become one. Where one of you may go, a piece of the other will follow. Where one of you takes root, both shall flourish. For each other, you will love and support, cherish and strengthen, protect and avenge. Two souls, freely given, with the intent of a single future. Who comes before the eyes of the gods and the people today to bond their souls?”

“I, Wade Winston Wilson, come bearing my soul, freely given, to see it joined in ceremony.”

Queen Mother turned to Peter. He swallowed hard forced his voice to stay steady as he spoke. “I, Peter Benjamin Parker, come bearing my soul, freely given, to see it joined in ceremony.”

She smiled at them, warm and full of love. For some reason, her maternal approval rather than the serious and dignified stance of a religious leader left Peter feeling reassured. She swept her arms to the side in an open and welcoming manner. “I bear witness to your offer and gladly receive.”

The gathered Priestesses began to hum something soothing and melodic. Many in the gathered crowd joined them. Peter was told that music delighted dragons and thus it was used to put the gods in a good mood to help garner their favor in order to bless the union.

A Priestess handed over a stone bowl filled with burning embers and Queen Mother held it high in the air. “We call upon Arev, for his protection and strength, passion and ferocity. That he is ageless and undefeated, may he ever watch over this union.”

Passing the bowl off, she was given another with stones at the bottom, covered in water, and a sprouting seed in the middle. She held it up once more. “We call upon Sakit, for her loyalty and love, steadiness and vengeance. That she is ageless and all seeing, may she ever watch over this union.”

Next was a large tome, worn with age and bound in leather to be held high. “We call upon Ts’av, for their wisdom and understanding, known and unknown. For they are what allows all to be, may they ever watch over this union.”

Once the item was given to a waiting Priestess, Queen Mother held out one hand to Peter. He carefully placed his hand in hers as she said, “Speak now your intent, child of Sakit.”

Peter took a moment to force calm over himself before speaking. He had worked with a Priestess to write his own words for this part, as was tradition. He wanted to be honest, even if it wasn’t some great declaration of love. Still, he understood the importance of the ceremony and wanted his words to reflect that. Peter turned to look at Wade.

“I vow on this day that I will walk with you, hand in hand, wherever our journey leads us. I promise to be devoted to the health and success of our union, our family, and all the people of this country. Today I give you my soul to bond with yours under the eyes of all who bear witness, and pray for the blessing of Ts’av, Arev, and Sakit.”

Wade’s eyes looked suspiciously shiny and his bottom lip quivered. Peter tried not to frown in disapproval. Honestly, the man was too emotional sometimes. Wasn’t he supposed to look like a pillar of chiefly strength for his people?

Queen Mother smiled and held out her free hand to Wade for him to take. “Speak now your intent, child of Arev.”

Wade cleared his throat and took a steadying breath before speaking. “I vow to love and care for you, and I will try in every way to be worthy of your love. I will always be honest with you. I will strive to be kind, patient and forgiving. But most of all, I promise to be a true and loyal friend to you, a partner always there for you, a family for now and always. Today I give you my soul to bond with yours under the eyes of all who bear witness, and pray for the blessing of Ts’av, Arev, and Sakit.”

Peter’s eyes skittered away, unable to look at the raw emotion on Wade’s face paired with such statements. They meant something, those words, and not just to Wade, but to a part of Peter desperate to have a place to belong and people to care for him. His chest clenched painfully and he was grateful for the distraction of Queen Mother moving their arms.

She placed them together, palms facing, and smoothed her fingers up their forearms until they sat flush against each other. The heat of Wade’s skin radiated from him, and Peter felt his cheeks warming in response. Those large fingers squeezed his own and Peter lightly returned it as he kept his eyes firmly facing forward once more.

Queen Mother took a long length of red rope and began to weave it across their arms in a complicated pattern as she spoke. “Two souls, sharing honor and respect. Two souls, sharing pain and burdens. Two souls, sharing love and laughter. Two souls, sharing family and nation.” She finished by laying an intricate pattern of looping rope around their hands, keeping their arms trapped together.

“As your hands are so bound, so are your souls. You will work together, support one another, share your lives, and always harbor trust within your union. Above you are the stars and below you is the earth. Like the stars, your love should be a constant source of light, and like the earth, a firm foundation from which to grow.” She gave both their joined hands a squeeze and stepped back to smile at them.

“May your bond take root!” She turned to the crowd and held her arms open wide. “Speak your blessings!”

The crowd erupted with noise, all of them shouting their goodwill and offering advice on how to have a healthy union. A few people demonstrated some things to help in more physical areas of their relationship. Peter simultaneously didn’t want to see it and couldn’t help but stare in fascination. Craxians sure appreciated a… _variety_ of bedroom options.

It took a long time for the crowd to run out of ideas. Wade seemed to enjoy it, but Peter was left feeling a little overwhelmed by it. Once the noise died down, Queen Mother thanked them for their well wishes. It was at that point she announced the feast, much to everyone’s delight.

Servants brought out prepared food to the crowd while those approved were brought inside to the large banquet hall. Wade and Peter were sat at the front of the room with their own table as everyone else mixed and mingled among the long tables laden with food in the stylistic presentations that the kitchen staff had come up with. They beamed at Peter with pride when they saw him and he made sure to send his compliments along to all involved.

Eating was an endeavor, as their hands were not unbound and wouldn’t be until night fell. Wade liked to talk with his hands, so it left Peter getting knocked around a lot. Wade would always look sheepish at Peter’s pointed glare. The purpose of staying bound was to learn to act as a single unit, but that required more focus from Wade than he usually had.

“You want a piece?” Wade held up a chunk of meat and Peter calmly opened his mouth to take it. He was distinctly reminded of the feast that had happened in Yirie when they had played the happily married couple. “Perhaps we should have been on opposite sides so that you could have your right hand available.”

Peter raised his eyebrows. “Are you bad with your left hand?”

Wade puffed up his chest. “I’ve trained a long time in combat to be decent with both hands!”

“Is that so?” Peter picked up his spoon, set it atop his forefinger, and then balanced it while staring Wade dead in the eye. It was a trick that he’d practiced day and night as a kid in order to impress literally anyone that would let him show it off. “A shame I am too hindered to feed myself properly.”

Ellie, who sat close to them, began to snicker at them. Wade gaped, pouted, and then smirked in turns. “Yes, quite a shame, as now I will have to spend the whole night feeding you. Whatever shall I do, having my fingers graze your lips time after time?”

Peter turned bright red and sat the spoon down with a scowl on his face. “I wouldn’t want you to starve, so perhaps you should focus on yourself.”

Wade grinned in a way that showed he was unrepentant for his teasing. Thankfully, they were distracted by a performer walking up to them and offering a bow. There were many people vying for a chance to impress the chief and his wife, though not all of them were as full of talents as they believed themselves to be. Still, Peter cheered and stomped with everyone else at the end of each to show his appreciation.

Halfway through the feast when drink was flowing well, and the people became louder and more rambunctious, the performances became more risque. Peter didn’t appreciate how he was embarrassed at the raunchy poems while Ellie sat there looking bored and Wade laughed himself to tears. Honestly, there were children present. Could the bard just… _not_?

When he at last bowed his finish and the noise of the stomps and cheers died down, someone at a far table jumped atop it and bellowed at the top of her lungs. “I wish to share a joke!” A woman with long white hair and graceful limbs raised her glass and everyone shouted in encouragement.

“What do you call a spit-shined pig that gorges on the food of a farmer’s plate while the rest of the animals starve?”

Peter tensed and the people in the room fell quiet in anticipation, wondering if she would dare finish. She did.

“The chief’s wife!”

Wade immediately tried to launch from his seat, but Peter used their bound arms to yank him back down with enough force to land him in his chair with a thump. Guards began weaving through the crowd to get to the woman glaring daggers at Peter but he called for them to stop with all the authority he could muster. The room went silent, eyes flying between the woman and Peter. Little did they know, he’d been listening to such vitriol hurled in his direction for most of his life. He knew better how to handle it than they.

“Far be it from me to shirk the tradition of a feast the day of a chief’s bonding,” Peter said with utmost calm. “And if citizens are starving in the streets, I pray you take them your plate. I will not stop you. In fact, I hope that you would take mine as well.”

He slid his plate laden with steaming piles of meat and tubers to the far edge of the table. “I come from a family devoted to a saint who served the poor. Though the war look my family and my people, it did not take from me that great responsibility. I aspire to take care of the people in my charge, to make my family, old and new, proud of the person that I am. Though my location may have changed, my morals have not.”

“And what would you do to save this nation?” she challenged.

“Whatever is needed of me. I am still learning about this country, its people, and these lands. If you wish to teach me and offer solutions, I am here to listen. Though I ask you seek an audience with me during a more appropriate setting.”

She smirked at him. “How very diplomatic of you.”

“I prefer diplomacy over the punishment of someone with legitimate concern for others.”

There was a long pause as she studied him, trying to determine if he was putting on a performance of if he were honest. A little of both, in all honesty. Though he would have prefered just having her thrown from the room so that he didn’t have to deal with it, that wouldn’t have made things easier on him in the future. It was best dealt with in the present. Baring his intentions as the chief’s wife to an audience would also help him in the long run.

Long legs picked their way across the tables as the woman moved. She stepped across multiple broad shouldered men with a balance that Peter had rarely seen outside of the great performers that had entertained the king. The guards shuffled around to keep her in sight and Wade leaned into Peter as if trying to make himself a human shield.

The woman hopped down into the performance space in front of their table and bowed with a flourish. She stood with a smile that had likely sent more than one man to his knees before her. “I, [Felicia Hardy](http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Felicia_Hardy_\(Earth-616\)), speaker of the capital’s strays, have come to take your plate, Great Wife.”

Peter slid the large platter with its stacked assortments of food at her. “This has more food to spare. Take it instead.”

She stared at him for a long moment before downing the rest of her drink in an impressive chug, flinging the cup to the side in a surprisingly well placed throw to an ogling man’s head, and then stepped forward to pick up the heavy platter without a bit of struggle. “The strays thank you.”

“Thank you for attending my bonding,” Peter said, the picture of calm and polite.

A devious smirk pulled at her lips. “May the gods bless your union.” With that, she turned and left without any further complaints. Peter felt exhausted after the encounter and fell back into his chair with a sigh.

Aleksei stood up and held his glass high, “To the Great Wife! May he ever watch over our city!”

Everyone cheered, and just like that, the moment passed as if it had never happened. Peter pulled his plate back to him and fiddled with the food on it. He thought about what the woman had said and who “the strays” were. There was still so much that he hadn’t learned about the city.

Wade’s shoulder bumped his and he looked up to see an interesting mix of pride, affection, and lust in his gaze. Peter frowned. Why did absolutely everything seem to turn Wade on?

“We’re still having a party,” Wade said. “We can deal with everything else later. I think you handled it perfectly in the meantime.”

Peter looked down at his plate, unsure how to handle praise for his habit of speaking when he normally shouldn’t. “I’m honestly surprised it took this long for someone to say such things to me.”

“They say it only because they don’t know you.” Wade squeezed Peter’s hand as he leaned down. “A kiss for our audience?”

Peter gave Wade a long look, his mind swimming with very sudden thoughts about all the “helpful” advice people had given them for what was soon to come. He was nervous. He was beyond nervous. But most of all, he was struck by the sudden thought that perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad if… it was just the two of them.

Wade’s free hand came up to gently brush across Peter’s cheek. “Hey, don’t make that face,” he whispered with a soft smile. “I’ll take care of you.”

“I know.” And it was true. Peter trusted Wade.

When Wade kissed, Peter returned it. The room exploded with the noise of stomping feet and drunken encouragement. Peter did his best to tune it out and only focus on Wade. All else was just a blur of colors and noise. So long as it was only Wade, Peter knew that he would be safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: *introduces Felicia Hardy to the story*  
> All of you who know me: #NotSurprised #WeSawThisComing #GetARoom
> 
> I made the ceremony a mix of various things I found, but I'm sure the heavy handfasting influences are noticeable. The vows I struggled with for a while. Who's idea was it to write them in their entirety?! @.@ 
> 
> You guys know what's coming next, right? Aw, yeah. A solid chapter of nothin' but smut. Get ready for it.


	17. Chapter 17 - The Bonding Ceremony - Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know what you guys are here for. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) Don't worry. I will provide.

Peter was taken by a Priestess to be washed, cleansed, and oiled over every inch of his body, including places he never thought could or would be cleansed and oiled. He absolutely did not want anything entering that hole again, but he had a sinking feeling that it would. The only thing that kept him from running for his life was the knowledge that Wade would never do anything to hurt him.

Pale and shaking with nerves, Peter was escorted out of the palace and into the cool night air. Goosebumps raced along his skin as he tried to acclimate to the change in temperature. Braziers were set along a path of silk that led to a large group of people. They were all naked. Peter was naked. Just… nudity everywhere. He kept his eyes focused straight ahead as he walked, his bare feet hardly making a sound on the heavy fabric.

People murmured well wishes as he passed and as much as he told himself that he should respond politely, he couldn’t force his jaw open or get his throat to make a single noise. His mind was just a solid wall of silent unintelligible screaming.

They came upon a large area strewn with sheets of silk and pillows on the ground and the occasional brazier lighting the area. In the middle was a circle of hanging silks, like a roofless tent, gently fluttering in the occasional breeze. The Priestess walked him up to it and held aside one of the hanging flaps of fabric so that he could enter. She left him inside with a smile, a kiss, and well wishes.

The sheets muted some of the noise from their location: the shuffling of bodies, the low murmur of conversation, the crackling of the fires, the singing of insects, and the faint sound of music and dragon calls from the city. Around him was a setup of many pillows and containers of oil, along with the stray towel or folded sheet atop the floor of silk. He looked up to see the expanse of inky black sky, the vast array of stars scattered across it. The night air smelled vaguely of incense as he took a deep breath and tried to calm his racing heart.

The sheets fluttered and caught his attention. Across from him, Wade entered the circle. He was also nude and shiny with oil. The main difference was that he looked far less nervous as the Priestess left with her formal kiss and kind words. Silence filled the space as they looked at each other. Wade was the first to speak, to no one’s surprise.

“Is it okay?”

Peter’s eyes flitted around to the hanging sheets surrounding them. “I don’t remember this being part of the plans.”

“It wasn’t. I requested it.” Wade shuffled a bit from foot to foot. “I thought it would help if there was a little more privacy for you.” He waved his hand at the missing ceiling. “We’re still under the stars, after all.”

Peter’s chest felt tight and he wrapped his arms around his fluttering stomach. Wade had broken the rules just to make Peter comfortable. Of course he had. “Are you sure this won’t cause problems?”

“No. I promise.” Wade moved a little closer. “This isn’t the first time something like this has been done. Won’t be the last. People mostly think it’s cute that you want me all to yourself.”

Peter scoffed and rolled his eyes. He dug his fingers into his sides. He was feeling overwhelmed and anxious and emotional, though he didn’t fully understand why. Wade had done what he could to take care of Peter’s needs and would continue to do so. Peter believed that. Still, that didn’t stop his nerves from the task at hand.

“You want to tell me what’s running through your head? Maybe I can help.”

As much as Peter had promised that he wouldn’t be hostile about the situation, he found himself blurting out, “Do you intend for me to play the role of the woman with my ass?”

There was a long careful pause before Wade said, “You can always go first.”

Startled, Peter looked up to see the perfectly relaxed look on Wade’s face. “Did you think you were the only one prepared in such places?”

Yes, actually, Peter _had_ thought that. “You would let me… stick my _cock…_ in your ass?”

Wade’s nudity allowed for a very clear view of his interest. “I’ve been thinking about that for a while, if we’re being honest.”

Peter’s face lit up with a blush and his eyes skittered away. “Wouldn’t that… hurt?”

“You’d be mad if I called you cute right now.”

That brought the scowl back to his face in an instant. “Forgive me for not being well versed in man on man sexual engagements whilst being raised in a country that forbids even speaking of it!”

Wade held up his hands in surrender. “I just meant that I like the idea of teaching you how good it can feel.”

“I— Wha—” Peter huffed and shuffled his feet. “We should… get this over with.”

Wade raised his eyebrows. “Oh, no. None of that. We’re going to do this right and have an amazing experience.”

“I don’t know if I can live up to your expectations.”

“Tell me something.” Wade moved a little closer still. “Did you hate having my mouth on you that day?”

Peter’s stomach fluttered. “That was different.”

“Different in the same way that your hand is different.”

“Have you done this before?”

“I have.” The distance was closing between them little by little. “I see nothing wrong with playing the role of the woman, as you so put it.”

Peter’s eyebrows knit together. “It sounds as if you’re coddling me.”

“Well… You look a little timid.”

Of course that caused Peter to bristle. He dropped his arms to the sides and lifted his chin, staring down Wade in the same manner he stared down the baby dragons in their cage, presenting himself as an equal. “You can keep the role of woman.”

Wade grinned at the challenge. “Where’s the fun in that? You’d enjoy yourself if you weren’t so uptight about everything.”

Peter clenched his fists. “I know of better things your mouth could be doing right now,” he spat.

Wade laughed. “It would be a pleasure.” In so saying, he closed the last bit of distance, dropped to his knees, and took Peter’s soft cock into his mouth.

The sudden move had Peter hissing through his teeth. Unlike Wade, he hadn’t been the least bit aroused, given the situation. However, the memory of the last time Wade had used his mouth along with the feeling of his soft cock rolling around in that warm, wet heat had him growing in no time. Wade took it in stride, allowing Peter’s member to fill out down his throat. Peter bit back a moan, his fingers clutching at Wade’s slick skin.

Just like the last time, Wade was good with his mouth, attacking Peter with pleasure until he was curling forward from the intensity of it. Arousal spiked fast in his system, warming his skin and quickening his breath. Pleasure raced up his spine and built in his gut. Wade seemed determined to rip an orgasm out of Peter as quickly as possible — and was succeeding.

Then, when Peter began to seize up, his pleasure spiking, Wade pulled back with a pop of his lips, leaving Peter unfulfilled and cursing. “What are you doing?” Peter hissed.

Wade grinned like it was no big deal. “Getting you in the mood.”

“ _The mood_?”

“Uh-huh.” Wade tilted his head at an odd angle and softly suckled on Peter’s balls. It was an odd feeling, and it was completely lewd. Peter pulled away with a noise of alarm. Wade sat back on his heels, one hand languidly rubbing along his erection.

Peter wanted to ask why Wade had stopped, but that also felt too much like admitting that he enjoyed it. Perhaps he could be honest with himself about that, but saying it aloud was a different story. He reached for himself as well, planning to finish what Wade had started, what still burned insistently in his gut, but large hands wrapped around his wrists in an instant, stopping him.

“Why—”

Wade tugged at Peter’s wrists. “Finish inside me.”

Peter’s eyes grew round and a blush crawled up his neck and across his face. He couldn’t believe that Wade could ask for such a thing so casually. More than that, what had seemed so impossible before, now sounded like a wonderful idea to his unfulfilled cock. Damn Wade for that.

“I… I don’t know what to do…”

“Just sit still. I’ll do all the work.” Wade winked and shuffled over to grab a nearby container of oil. He poured some into his palm and then moved back to coat Peter’s cock with it. “Drop down to your knees.”

With only a bit of hesitation, Peter followed instructions and lowered himself to the ground. Wade’s hand disappeared behind his back and was producing odd squelching noises. Peter wasn’t even sure how to feel about that. He practically held his breath as he waited for Wade to provide further direction.

“Spread your legs a little more.”

When Peter did so, Wade turned around and brought his ass up to Peter’s hips. It was quite the sight, seeing Wade bent over like a dog, his hand groping between his legs for Peter’s length. It was oddly mesmerizing to not be moving and just watch as Wade pressed his ass back against the tip of Peter’s erection. Like he wanted it. Like he craved it.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Peter whispered as the head slipped out of view and sank into the tight heat of Wade’s ass. The muscles clenched and quivered, Peter’s gut doing much the same. Wade let out a long breath as he sank back bit by bit onto Peter, until his ass was pressed tight to Peter’s hips.

Wade groaned, long and appreciative. “That feels amazing.”

Peter’s fingers twitched, desperate to touch, but also afraid to. He grunted as Wade pulled away and pushed back, over and over, slow and careful. Wade’s chest was pressed down onto a pillow, his arms tense as he rocked his hips. His spine arched and the muscles rippled under the skin. It shouldn’t have been a sight Peter enjoyed. Wade had none of the delicate curves and soft flesh of a woman. And yet…

Like a man possessed, Peter’s fingers reached out and ran down the glistening scarred skin of Wade’s back. Wade shivered under the touch, his hips losing their rhythm and grinding back on Peter. Pulling such a desperate reaction from a person like Wade… it was intoxicating.

“Is this enough for you?” Peter murmured. Such gentle sex didn’t seem to match that feral intent Peter had seen lurking under the surface so many times now.

“Don’t tease me, Peter…” Wade complained, his head dropping forward to rest on the silk sheets.

“You look like you’re enjoying this.”

“Mmmm…”

“But not enough. It’s almost like you think I can’t handle you.”

Wade growled. “I _said_ don’t fucking tease me, Peter.”

“Who’s teasing?” To both of their surprise, Peter’s hands wrapped tight around Wade’s thighs as he brought their hips together with a slap of skin. Wade made a strangled noise of pleasure, his fingers curling into the silk, his hips desperately trying to move to do it again. Peter held them still. “Do you want to be taken hard?”

A string of cursing was the response. Something about the idea of Peter fucking Wade hard and unrelenting was extremely appealing. The fact that Wade looked so desperate for it, reacted so strongly to Peter’s words, only added fuel to the fire. Peter felt like he was burning up with need.

Peter pulled back and snapped his hips forward hard enough to jar them both. He did it twice more, enjoying the little noises he was punching out of Wade. Then he fell still, eyeing Wade’s reaction. The man was practically writhing against him, his muscles clenching in delicious ways around his cock. It was as if Peter was in full control, dominating Wade in a way he never thought would happen.

“Is that what you want?” Peter asked.

“Please, please, please,” Wade whispered and whimpered in a constant mantra. Fuck, that shouldn’t have caused the spike of arousal that it did. Peter was a lost cause, the proper Brals nobleman in him fading in the bright light of his lust.

“I think I can accommodate you.”

Peter set up a hard rhythm, trying to make the slap of skin louder than his thoughts. Wade’s body opened to him, allowing him to drive inside as fast and hard as he pleased. Some wild part of Peter wanted to prove that it wasn’t nearly so enjoyable as Wade made it out to be. Wade’s reactions completely ruined that hope.

“Ah! Fuck! Right there!” Wade ran his mouth even during sex. Peter shouldn’t have been surprised.

Worst than that, Wade’s bunched muscles, throaty groans, and choked off breaths made him the picture of pleasure. Wade turned his face to the side, giving Peter plenty of opportunity to see the blissed out look on his scarred face. One of Wade’s hands found its way lower, wrapping around himself and setting up a quick pace on his own dick in chorus to Peter’s hard thrusts.

The sex was rough, primal, and full of single minded focus. It was unlike anything Peter had ever experienced prior. Wade was hot and tight, wrapped around Peter in various stages of soft or vice-like. It was overwhelming and Peter was ashamed to say he was getting close far too quickly. He didn’t seem to be the only one if Wade’s choked off noises were any indication.

The sheath of Wade’s body clamped down on Peter and stole his breath before it began to pulse and Wade began to tremble. The wet sound of release splattered onto the sheets under them. Wade’s hypersensitized cries of pleasure-pain were too much for Peter to handle. He came not long after, pressing them close together, filling Wade with his seed.

They stilled, panting for breath and lost in the after effects of their climax. The cool night air now felt heavenly on Peter’s overheated skin. He tipped his head back and stared at the night sky, trying his best to keep his mind devoid of thought for at least a few moments longer. He deserved to just… enjoy things for a bit.

Wade made a noise deep in his throat and pulled off of Peter with a squelch. He rolled to the side and onto his back, sprawling on the sheets and looking at the sky with a chuckle. Peter watched him, still frozen in place, his softening cock hanging limp between his legs.

“For a novice, you sure know how to pack a punch.” Wade grinned. He seemed completely satisfied with their quick rut.

“I suppose I was… pent up…” Peter didn’t know why he was trying to mumble an excuse about it, but there he was, defending himself like it was necessary for anyone other than himself.

Wade let his head drop to the side and stared at Peter for a long moment, a faint smile still hovering on his lips. “I’ve been a little too excited to do that. You’ve been a tease, you know that?”

Peter’s cheeks heated and he looked away, drowning in conflicting emotions. He had promised that he would do his duty and not run, but that was a lot easier said than done. It felt like Wade was chipping at him, breaking him down and remolding him into someone unrecognizable. At the point he was now, he didn’t know if he could go back to who he was. But the bigger question was… Did he really want to?

“Hey…” Wade’s voice was soft and hopeful. It made Peter’s chest flare with pain. Wade was so damn nice and accommodating even when he was being insufferable. Peter knew how sensitive Wade was to rejection and how much he hoped for more between them. And Peter… Well, Peter found that he didn’t want to hurt Wade — his only true friend and ally in his new life.

Sucking in a deep breath, Peter forced a neutral look on his face and turned to look at Wade. “It wasn’t so bad.”

Wade smiled in a way that said he was appreciative of Peter’s attempts at diplomacy, but saw right through it. He held out his hand. “Come here, you can’t kneel there all night.”

After only a brief pause, Peter obeyed and crawled over to lay against Wade as if it was any other night that they slept together. It was far too comforting and his body relaxed into it. Maybe he’d been conditioned by habit to enjoy lying against Wade’s naked skin. He tried not to obsess over that.

Thick fingers ran through Peter’s hair in a lulling motion. “It’s just sex.”

“I know that.”

Wade’s hand trailed lower in soft languid patterns over Peter’s back. For some reason, that felt intimate, soothing, and pleasurable all at once. Perhaps it was the faint scent of incense in the air that was addling Peter’s inhibitions. The hanging sheets rustled in the soft breeze, flipping up at the bottom to show occasional glimpses of distant bodies rocking against each other in the soft flickering light of the braziers.

“Perhaps next we can go about things a little slower,” Wade said.

“You want to do that again already?”

A wicked grin grew on Wade’s face. “I can go quite a few times in a night. You can’t? You seem like such a virile young man.”

Peter scowled. “Assuming the right circumstances are there to help raise my interest once more.”

Wade laughed. “There’s the fire in you. I hate it when it wanes.”

That… was not something Peter ever expected to hear from someone. He looked away and tried to hide how pleased he was to have someone _like_ him for his biting commentary. Of course, Wade had his fair share of comments to dole out to others. Perhaps there was a reason they got along so strangely well, despite the circumstances.

His thoughts scattered when Wade’s softly petting hand made it to the crack of Peter’s ass and slid inside. Immediate instinct told him to pull away, but Wade’s arm tightened to hold him still. Peter didn’t fight the embrace off, but that didn’t mean he relaxed any, especially considering how close those fingers were getting to his _exit._

“I promise I can make sure it does not hurt.”

Frankly, Peter had just assumed that it would and he would have to deal with it. Wade had made it look so enjoyable. Perhaps the man just enjoyed pain like some strange deviant. Peter was far from reassured.

“But it will hurt if you stay so tense.”

“Forgive me for not wanting such a place being invaded,” Peter growled.

Wade snorted. “You say that like my cock is an army.”

“Fuck you.”

“We already did that. It’s your turn!”

Peter tried to sit up in a huff but Wade caught him off guard and rolled them so Peter ended up on his back. Lips fell over his before he could complain. Kissing Wade had become oddly distracting. It was a way to pacify Wade’s needs and allowed Peter to trust that as long as he gave a little, he wouldn’t be thrown down and ravaged.

Except, he’d just been thrown down with the intent to be ravaged.

“Wait…” Peter said as best he could against Wade’s mouth. That only caused Wade to invite himself inside, tasting Peter’s tongue and muffling his complaints. Why was it so hard to focus when Wade did such things? Peter turned his head to the side. “I really don’t think I can— Ah!”

Teeth sank into the crook of his neck flaring pain and no small amount of pleasure through him. His back arched, hands reaching up to dig his nails into Wade’s shoulders and arms. It was definitely going to leave a bruise. When Wade was finally satisfied, he tenderly licked and kissed at the area before moving down and sucking hard at the skin below the now throbbing patch of skin.

 _He’s marking me as his._ That feeling from the bath, of Wade finally letting go and allowing that primal side of him to take over and claim, was back in full force. Peter reacted to it much the same way he had then. It felt _right_ , and he inexplicably wanted more of it. More than that, he wanted to _return_ it.

Wrapping his hands around Wade’s large frame, Peter curled his fingers and sank his nails into Wade’s back. He dragged them down with force, knowing full well those marks would stay to see morning. Wade hissed and moaned, his head curling down to press into Peter’s chest, his frame shuddering.

Lips found Peter’s again, the kiss far more insistent and aggressive. Wade was all grazing teeth and growling desire. Large hands roamed everywhere on Peter’s body, caressing and squeezing. Peter found himself pressing into it, his hips jerking as his arousal spiked once more, his cock seeking contact with Wade’s hard and oiled skin.

One of Wade’s hands slid down Peter’s trembling stomach and gave his growing erection a few good strokes before moving down to cup his sack, thumb caressing the sensitive skin. Peter gasped into Wade’s mouth, nails gripping at the man’s sides, but Wade didn’t seem to notice. He just kept up his soft teasing, one finger sliding down to massage at Peter’s perineum.

When Peter’s mind was buzzing with arousal and his words no longer coherent, Wade made his move. He bit down on Peter’s neck to mirror the first mark. Peter shouted and wrapped himself more firmly around Wade. He didn’t notice the finger that had slipped lower until it was rubbing against the ring of muscle, but all Peter’s mind could process was that it added to the pleasure he was feeling, and it hardly compared to the pain of Wade’s teeth.

Wade released the pressure of his jaw and Peter went boneless, panting as he recovered, but his fluttering eyes grew wide when a thick finger slipped inside of him with ease. He choked and shuddered, his mouth working as he tried to remember words, though what he meant to say, he didn’t know. Wade cut that off with another kiss.

The finger inside of Peter felt foreign and odd. It was pressing against places it absolutely shouldn’t have been. There was a slight burn to the presence, but the oil kept that mostly at bay. Peter was surprised at how much it didn’t hurt, but a finger was nothing compared to the girth between Wade’s legs.

Peter’s head was spinning from how often Wade wasn’t letting him catch his breath. He jerked his head to the side, hands coming up to protect him from another assault. He just needed a moment to breathe and collect his thoughts. Wade’s teeth and tongue began to do horribly lewd things to Peter’s hovering fingers, effectively shattering Peter’s attempts at conscious thought.

Another finger worked its way inside, causing a slight sting as his muscles were spread further, but it was lost under the throb of his neck and the graze of teeth along his wrist. Wade bit and sucked his way up Peter’s arm, leaving behind a trail of bruises. His fingers spread and shifted, working Peter wider, bit by bit.

“Wade—” Peter was cut off yet again by a hand in his hair, tugging him back to expose more skin to Wade’s teeth. Peter gripped at Wade’s shoulder, scraped at the back of his head. It was an all out assault on his body and he was drowning in it.

The fingers inside of him began rolling in and out in a sensation Peter had never felt before. He pulled his knees up instinctively, spreading his legs further apart to relieve the pressure until it was easier to take. Wade took that invitation, pressing further into Peter, spreading him wider. Knees pushed against Peter’s thighs to keep him from trying to hide again.

“Tell me how you feel.” Wade’s voice was husky and demanding.

How he felt? Peter could hardly focus on it. There was so much going on at once. He just felt overwhelmed by it all. It slowly occurred to him that pain and fear were distinctly missing from his swirl of emotions. He was still nervous, sure. His skin still throbbed from Wade’s teeth, but he didn’t mind it. None of it was anything like what he expected it to be.

“You’ll enjoy it.” Wade’s voice rumbled its way down Peter’s spine. “Have I ever lied to you?”

Peter closed his eyes and forced his body to relax. Wade’s fingers moved a little more insistently and Peter had to bite off a whimper of noise. The truth was, that he could give himself over to Wade and know that he would be safe. It was an odd moment to finally come to terms with that, but there it was. So Peter gave in.

“What do you need me to do?” Peter whispered, eyes still shut, body still relaxed into the silk sheets.

Wade’s fingers abruptly left before Peter was being twisted at the waist, one leg lifted high to be propped on Wade’s shoulder. It left him wide open and exposed, his hole already gaping around thin air. Peter could hear the slosh of oil and the slick noises of Wade preparing himself. It was hands down the most embarrassing position he’d ever found himself in.

“Shhh,” Wade soothed as something big and blunt pressed against Peter. “Just stay relaxed and breathe out.”

Peter forced his muscles to release their tension and let out a long and shaky breath. Wade pushed forward and met resistance and Peter had a wild thought that it wouldn’t go in, but a bit more pressure had the head of Wade’s cock breaking through the ring of muscle and sinking inside. Peter sucked in a breath, jaw tensing at how odd it felt. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to call a stop or not.

He didn’t get much time to debate that. Wade kept pushing, bit at a time, showing more patience than Peter would have expected given the situation. The more of Peter was filled, the more he noticed something very _distinct_ about the feeling of it. It was intense, like something was trying to grip his dick from deep inside his body, sending bright bursts of arousal from stomach to thighs.

“Fffffuck!” Peter rolled a little more to the side on order to bury his face in a nearby pillow while his hands clawed at the sheets. “Why does it feel like that?”

Wade chuckled. “I knew you’d think I was lying if I told you about that spot inside of you.”

“Spot?” It felt like more than a _spot._ It felt like everything in the area was being stimulated from the inside out.

“You’ll see.” The wicked grin could be heard in Wade’s voice. A pillow slipped under Peter’s hip to help keep him propped at the right angle. “I’ll start off slow. It’s gonna be a little intense at first.”

That was an understatement. Peter was making all sorts of noises at the feeling of Wade carefully rocking his hips, dragging hard flesh along his insides. Choked off whines, grunts, and moans were thankfully muffled for the most part by the pillow that Peter was hiding in. His body trembled with how intense it all was.

Wade was still only rocking inside a small amount and at a slow pace. How had he handled Peter going so hard and fast? Did Wade intend to do that to him? Peter would die, surely.

“Please… slow…” Peter choked out, panting for breath.

“Don’t worry. I’ll work you up to it.” Wade pulled back a little further and snapped his hips forward a little harder, punching a noise out of Peter. “You can take it.”

Peter cursed and kept cursing as Wade picked up speed at a faster pace than Peter would have liked. He was having a hard time staying still, his body twisting and jerking, toes curling, legs trembling. Almost painful bursts of pleasure flared through his abdomen and shot up his spine, causing his back to arch and bend in turns. The leg still stuck high in the air was held firmly in place between Wade’s large hand and sturdy shoulder.

“Quit hiding, Peter,” Wade panted, words punctuated by his movements. “I want to see your face.”

That was absolutely the _worst_ idea. Peter couldn’t fathom what his face would be showing in the given moment and it seemed far too intimate to share. He buried himself further into the pillow, sacrificing cool night air for a modicum of privacy. Wade, of course, wasn’t having it.

Peter was flipped onto his back, his hole tugging in odd ways as the cock inside of him stayed in place. Wade folded Peter practically in half, pinning his legs close to his chest so that he wouldn’t be able to hide, not that he didn’t try. He threw his arms up to protect his face, but one large hand grabbed his wrists and pinned them above his head.

“Let me see,” Wade insisted as his hips picked up pace, losing composure bit by bit at the sight of Peter’s flushed face, scrunched up against the heavy intensity of his pleasure, lips parted and gasping for breath.

“Please,” Peter choked out, unsure of what he was even begging for.

It was Wade’s turn to curse as he finally let loose, pounding into Peter with abandon. Peter was ashamed to say he screamed, body bucking against the too-much sensation. A hand fell to his cock and started stroking him. It was both relieving and maddening. He had thought his arousal wasn’t able to climb any higher — he was wrong. The pressure and spike of his growing orgasm was almost painful.

“I— Need—” Peter wrapped his legs tight around Wade, using the leverage to grind in the ways he wanted and thrust into Wade’s hand on his dick. He’d never needed release more in his life than he did in that moment.

His eyes fluttered open to see the vast expanse of the sky littered with stars, surrounding Wade’s face like a halo of glitter. Wade was staring at him with such desire, need, and affection. Peter’s heart clenched at the sight of it. Belatedly, Peter noticed that his hands were free and he brought them up to wrap around Wade’s neck, bringing them close together, leaving half formed kisses on each other as they both focused on their impending release.

When Peter finally fell over the edge, his orgasm was white hot and blindingly bright. His entire body clenched tight around Wade, trembling at the feeling of Wade still stimulating him from the inside out. It was intense enough to bring tears to his eyes. Thankfully, Wade’s hips stuttered to a stop not long after, grinding into Peter with circulating movements of his hips.

They went still, gasping for breath and dripping sweat. Peter felt dazed and boneless as he came back to his senses. His entire body was exhausted after that. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to feel an orgasm that strong again or not.

Wade carefully slid out from inside of Peter which was an odd feeling in his current state. His hole felt loose and wet, which was a very strange experience. Peter was gripped and rolled with Wade to the side so that they landed on a new patch of sheets that weren’t wet with all sorts of things. They were leaving a trail in their wake after each round.

Instead of pushing away from the sweaty heat of Wade, Peter allowed himself to relax against the man’s large form, head lifting and dropping languidly with Wade’s breathing. They stayed quiet for a while, just basking in the post-orgasmic glow. Peter’s mind drifted somewhere between awake and asleep, too tired to focus on much else, lost in the barely there movements of Wade’s fingers across his skin.

“Was it scary?” Wade murmured into the quiet between them. It dragged Peter’s mind back up and into awareness.

A lot of answers came to mind, and no small amount of dismissive phrases to dodge directly admitting to anything. He considered the worth of them for the future, but it all seemed more work than necessary. He wasn’t hurt, and though his panic was distracted, he never felt like Wade had forced him into something he hadn’t agreed to. Peter truly believed that Wade would never do such a thing.

“No…” Peter whispered. No, it hadn’t been scary, or painful, or tedious. It had been an experience, if anything.

Wade shuffled them around, settling them down to lay on their sides facing one another, their noses almost touching. Peter maintained eye contact only because it felt like defeat to look away, though their position seemed far too intimate with the way Wade was looking at him.

“I want to do that again,” Wade said, voice soft in the space between them.

Peter gave him a _look._ “We have barely recovered from the last two rounds.”

A smirk stretched across Wade’s lips. “Now, yes. But also in the future.” At Peter’s unsure pause, Wade kept talking. “I want to pleasure you… with my hand, my mouth, my ass — whatever you would prefer. I want to see you undone like that again.”

Peter swallowed hard and told himself that he was _not_ blushing, it was just the warmth of their bodies making his face hot. “I said I wouldn’t run.”

“I’m not talking about that. I don’t want to _take_ you Peter. I don’t want to _have_ you. I want to pleasure you, join with you.”

It felt like Wade was reading his thoughts, but more likely, his thoughts had just been too obvious in the past few months. Though he knew Wade was a romantic, it was still a hard concept to wrap his mind around, given the circumstances. Peter still expected Wade to demand his right as a husband, even if Peter knew better now. It was surprisingly hard to let go of that belief, but…

But they were bonded now. Perhaps it was worth it to believe that it did mean something more than a Brals marriage, as Wade had always insisted that it had.

“Alright.” Peter had meant for that to come out stronger than it did and not the breathy and soft sound that it was. Still, Wade didn’t seem to mind.

A hand buried itself into Peter’s hair and pulled them together, lips slotting against one another. Peter just opened his mouth and kissed back without thought. The pleasant buzz of sleepy satisfaction filled him up again, allowing him to get lost in the moment.

They ended up going two more rounds, softer and unhurried, just rocking against and into each other, floating in the easy feeling of their union. Wade was passionate and desperate, never wanting them to separate. For every mark Wade left on Peter’s skin, he returned one in kind until they were covered in love bites, bruises, and scratches.

When Peter could take no more, Wade wiped the remains of fluids from their bodies, set them up amongst a pile of pillows, and settled a sheet over them while cuddling close. Peter’s exhaustion easily pulled him under, satisfaction and contentment warming him from the inside out. For the first time in a long time, Peter felt safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ten pages of sex. That's just how I do things, I suppose. 
> 
> I wasn't able to get into it, but on the night of the ceremony, the kids entertain the dragons by taking turns playing them music. Paeyo kinda rumble and chill as they listen. Karusson like to sing along like puppies. <3 It is expected that more than a few of the dragons will try to join in on the adult fun and get a little touchy-feely with each other, if you know what I mean. huehuehue Dragons participating is seen as a sign of great luck and success to the bonding. 
> 
> At this point, it's probably obvious that sex isn't a taboo in Kocrax, and though I will often make nods to that, I don't intend to go in depth on how that affects Craxian culture. At least, not in this story. lol
> 
> For those who didn't see it, I posted a drabble/oneshot recently as part of a long term Big Bang participation for YoI. First off, it's the [greatest thing I've ever written](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14068053) and you should read it. Second, before you say it, I realize I have overbooked myself given my recent health issues. lol I don't intend to slack off, but I do want to catch up. So updates will slow a bit as I start getting into the next arc of the story (because I have way too much planned for this, omg). And by slow, I mean probably more on a normal weekly schedule than my rapid fire every-few-days I was doing previously. lol So don't worry! I'll still be here.
> 
> Also, it's my brother's birthday, today. Happy Birthday! Your sister wrote gay smut for the occasion! Be proud.


	18. Meeting of the Minds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up! New terms incoming:
> 
> Ostor: _Southern province of Kocrax, lead by Nathan (Cable)._  
>  Dowhea: _Eastern province of Kocrax, lead by Neena (Domino)._

Peter woke up slowly and reluctantly. The chill of the early morning air and the beams of sunlight pouring into the open top of the tent forced him into consciousness. Wade’s warm body was still pressed firmly against his. He didn’t mind it so much considering the bite in the air. It was no Floa Bral winter day, but it was winter all the same.

The more he woke, the more he noticed the aches and pains on his body. A few of the more overeager bite marks stung, and his hips and low back held a dull ache. His ass still felt loose and tender, which was a feeling he never imagined he would experience. Despite all of that, it wasn’t so bad. He’d felt far worse after training sessions. The soreness of his body almost felt like something hardwon, proof of a great accomplishment.

Or of great pleasure.

Peter curled up a little and ignored the heat in his cheeks. Facing the reality of how much he’d enjoyed himself was a bit harder in the light of day, but it also felt a little silly. After so many rounds and more orgasms than he thought himself capable of in a single night, why should he still feel embarrassed or uncomfortable? It was almost annoying that such feelings continued to creep up on him.

 _You’re a grown ass man,_ he scolded himself. _You’re not some blushing bride._

Wade took that moment to shuffle around in his sleep, grumbling at the early hour. He pulled Peter tighter against him before dropping a kiss on Peter’s shoulder. It was such a casually intimate movement that Peter’s chest tightened. Last night had made clear something Peter hadn’t wanted to accept — Wade had fallen for Peter.

_Why am I a blushing bride?!_

“If you’re awake, we should get food. I’m starving,” Peter muttered in hopes of escaping the situation, his thoughts, and the cold.

Wade mumbled something incoherent and rubbed his face against Peter’s bare skin, the patches of stubble causing Peter to shiver. _That_ seemed to wake Wade up, as noticed by his hands beginning to roam along Peter’s body. Peter took firm hold of Wade’s wrists to stop the movement.

“No. Absolutely not. My body can take not a single bit more. How are you even able to move?”

A deep raspy chuckle came in response. “I have a lot of stamina.”

“Or you’re just full of depravity.”

“That too.” Peter could hear the smile in Wade’s voice as one of his hands slid between Peter’s legs. “You don’t seem all that wrung out.”

Peter gritted his teeth and firmly but silently scolded his cock. “A natural morning reaction.”

“I can’t let you go without you being thoroughly pleasured.”

The urge to argue that he _was_ thoroughly pleasured was on the tip of his tongue but was far too embarrassing to say out loud. He could just _admit_ that to Wade. As he struggled to find something more appropriate and scathing to say, Wade’s hand was teasing along Peter’s groin in a lazy way that felt just right for the early morning.

“Don’t worry, I won’t put it in,” Wade promised. “You don’t even have to move.”

Wade’s length pressed against Peter’s ass, hard and ready. It brought back a visceral memory of all that had happened during the night. All of the intense new experiences had taught Peter that he had preferences he hadn’t known of. His cock twitched at just the thought of it, his skin warming pleasantly.

He felt like an entirely different person. Old Peter Parker wasn’t this wanton and didn’t give in so easily to pleasures of the flesh. But Peter _Wilson_ apparently did.

Wade arranged Peter’s legs so that his thighs sat tight against each other, one of Wade’s large legs draping on top to add to the pressure. Wade’s cock pressed into the fleshy space between, easily sliding along the skin through all of the residual oil that hadn’t been completely removed prior to them collapsing into an exhausted sleep. Peter just let it all happen, not even arguing Wade’s insistent need to fuck him, some way, somehow.

The glide of Wade’s cock against his own along with Wade’s languid hand felt amazing. Wade’s length brushed against his perineum and his balls before traveling along his shaft, stimulating everything as it went. Scarred fingers teased at his cockhead, followed by a calloused palm firmly rubbing before he could even remember that he could use his own hands.

He didn’t have to move or be an active participant. He just had to breathe and let Wade take care of it all. Peter floated on a cloud of endorphins, arousal sitting hot and heavy in his gut as he closed his eyes and drifted in the feeling of it. Wade left little nips and kisses along his neck and shoulder, occasionally stopping to press his nose into Peter’s hair and breathe deep.

Wade loved Peter, that was now an obvious fact. Something in Peter relaxed at the thought. It meant Wade wouldn’t toss him to the side. It meant Peter’s fear of being abandoned was alleviated so long as Wade held those feelings. Peter felt like he could breathe easily for the first time in years.

The sharp thrusts of Wade’s hips held a hint of the harsh pace he wanted, but despite Wade’s teasing, he was just as worn out as Peter. That was likely for the best, the both of them needed a break from how hard and heavy things had been all night. The urgent yet forcibly slower pace suited them in the moment.

Peter’s orgasm built slow and unrelenting, causing him to tense and shuffle some under Wade’s heavy presence. One hand rose to grip the arm draped over him, nails digging into flesh. Wade insistently nipped at Peter’s jaw until he turned his head to look, only to be caught in a long, wet kiss.

Climax washed over him in waves, causing him to moan into Wade’s mouth. The thrusting of hips became a little faster as Wade hurried to catch up and cum before the hazy blanket of lust over Peter faded. Wade grunted into the kiss as he found completion, but his lips remained, seeking one soft kiss after another, as long as he could.

Knowing that Wade desperately hoped to get as much as he desired prior to Peter calling a stop was… conflicting. Peter wasn’t really sure how to feel about it. It left him indulging Wade for a little longer, not liking how predictable he apparently was.

When the heat of their activities faded from their skin, Peter shivered, the morning air making itself known once more. Wade wrapped himself further around Peter like a clingy, heavy blanket. Peter just sighed and let it happen for a while. Wade enjoyed cuddling afterwards, perhaps a little too much given their size differences and his tendency to sprawl on top of Peter.

“I guess we do have to head back inside soon,” Wade grumbled. “At least there will be breakfast waiting.”

“The sooner we do, the less people will be awake outside.”

Since the final part of the whole process was to walk back to the palace as naked as they’d left it, Peter would prefer if there wasn’t as many people there to witness it. Nudity at night was a struggle enough as it was. Peter now sported a hundred little marks all over his body and probably looked utterly fucked out, which he was sure the light of dawn would help highlight.

Wade hummed deep in his chest. “I want them to see us. You marked me up pretty good.”

Peter had nothing to say to that, as his _involvement_ in Wade’s prefered style of rough fucking was something he was still processing about himself. Wade found Peter’s silence amusing but thankfully didn’t pick at it. He hauled them upright and wiped them down once more before leading the way to the fluttering drapes of silk still obscuring them from view.

Taking a deep breath, Peter forced a calm facade over his face and walked forward, pushing the sheets aside as if it was no big deal. A strong arm wrapped tight around his waist and kept them walking at a leisurely pace, slow enough to smile and thank those that were awake and murmuring well wishes to them. Wade probably thought Peter would have made a run for it if not restrained. Peter couldn’t argue that assumption.

It felt like the walk was three times the length it had been the night before, but there truly were less eyes on him this time. Sleeping piles of bodies were everywhere, covered in sheets stained with stars-only-knew what. Peter just hoped he wasn’t blushing as much as it felt like he was. He reminded himself that it was a good thing that people saw how much they had marked each other. It meant they were a good match in the eyes of the people.

A kiss dropped onto Peter’s temple. “We’ll get a shower first and then eat. After that I have a meeting because there’s always a meeting.” Wade stuck his bottom lip out in a pout.

“Sounds appropriate for a leader,” Peter said. He never really pitied Wade’s circumstances.

“You can bring parchment and quill if you wish to take notes, but it’s a private meeting, so don’t speak of it outside of the room.”

Peter almost stumbled to a stop were it not for Wade’s strong arm pulling him forward. He looked up at the man in shock, but Wade was looking resolutely forward. Peter had assumed that things would go back to how they were, with him being sent off to find something to occupy him as Wade continued to have meetings that he never talked about. Now suddenly it was just _expected_ that he would attend?

“Do you not want to go?” Wade asked, voice small and unsure.

“No, I mean, I do. Yes. I’ll be there.”

Wade didn’t relax much, but seemed satisfied at the answer. “I’ll find you an extra soft pillow to sit on.”

 

~*~

 

Wade shuffled things around on the low table in front of him to get rid of the nerves that plagued him. Beside him, Peter sat on a cushion, watching the people that entered the private meeting room with wide and curious eyes. It was his first meeting, and it really shouldn’t have been, but Wade was weak and wanted the bonding to be done with prior to this step.

Peter had made it clear on multiple occasions that Wade was not fit to rule on his own. That was completely accurate, but it deflated Wade to hear it. He knew full well his limitations, thus his secret council of advisors, but he thought he did a better job at convincing people of his capabilities. Peter was too observant of Wade’s faults.

The last person to enter the room was the High Priestess, and that should have been it, but storming past her was [Illyana](http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Illyana_Rasputina_\(Earth-616\)). Wade groaned as High Priestess [Emma](http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Emma_Frost_\(Earth-616\)) quietly pulled the heavy curtains over the doorway to leave them in privacy. Illyana slammed her stack of documents onto the table before dropping down to a pillow and giving Wade a cold stare.

“I thought we discussed last time that you can send all your reports though the High Priestess,” Wade said.

“I found it _pertinent_ to come myself to impart the full importance of the matter!” Illyana snapped, one hand reaching out to tap aggressively at her bound stack of reports. “We _cannot_ put this off any longer! I said four years ago that we must fallow at least one of the fields and you refused. We have pushed the land too far. We are losing soil consistency, run off from the mountains is pulling away far too much top soil, and if the growth rate continues to drop, we’ll be lucky if it’s suitable to feed the pigs!”

“We can’t afford to not grow crops,” someone else argued. “We agreed that extending the planting season and using all of the fields available was the best solution for the food crisis.”

“And when all the crops stop producing _anything at all_ , then what is your proposed solution?” she snapped in return.

“You want to fallow an entire quadrant,” [Victor](http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Victor_von_Doom_\(Earth-616\)) argued. “How do you propose to make up for that much of a loss in food production? We will lose too many lives to starvation. _Again_.”

“I think it is time to ask Chief [Neena Thurman](http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Neena_Thurman_\(Earth-616\)) for assistance,” Emma interrupted. “She has the resources.”

“No!” Wade jumped in. “No, absolutely not.”

“I believe she would be open to making a deal.” The High Priestess was relentless.

“I have people backing me up on this one!” Wade defended. He pointed at Victor. “Back me up.”

Victor sighed. “I agree. She would either have to put her province on a food restriction or over harvest her fishing areas, which could severely hinder repopulation for next season. Either option means she would ask for more than we are capable of giving in return.”

“And what do you believe she would want in return?” Emma asked.

“A few breeding pairs of wyvern,” Wade answered. “It’s too dangerous for her to have _both_ sea faring species of dragons. She’ll take over our province and then [Nathan](http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Nathan_Summers_\(Earth-616\))’s. War is the last thing we need in this country.”

“I believe she would be far more reasonable than that.” Emma had a high opinion of Neena that most of the others didn’t share.

“Oh, she’d be _reasonable_.” Victor scoffed. “She’d infiltrate first and take over without a single loss to her side. She’s ruthless.” He scowled at Emma like she was the first person to be converted to Neena’s side. Emma raised her eyebrows at him in a challenge, daring him to say something more against the High Priestess of their province.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Illyana complained. “Grow up. If aid from the Dowhea province isn’t an option, then what are the other options? Ostor?” She looked at Wade. “Aren’t you friends with Chief [Summers](http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Nathan_Summers_\(Earth-616\))?”

Wade rubbed the back of his neck. “Friend is a strong word for it.”

“Ostor has always overcharged for aid,” Victor said. “And for what little they can spare, it only ends up hindering us.”

“We cannot stay insular!” [Adam](http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Adam_Warlock_\(Earth-616\)) slammed his fist down on the table. “We must look at options outside of our country.” He aggressively pointed to Peter. “Is that not the whole point of taking a foreign wife was to acquire foreign aid?”

“For fuck’s sake,” Wade growled. “We were bonded _last night_.”

“And people are starving _right now_!”

Peter cleared his throat. “You don’t need foreign aid, you need foreign alliance.”

“That’s all well and good to _say_.” Victor used that pompous voice of his that made Wade want to punch him, doubly so on Peter’s behalf. “But we have always been blocked from alliances _by_ the alliances of other countries. That does not change with your presence here. The most we can do is hope for a decent season at the summer markets in Q’otha.”

“There are other options—” Peter tried again.

“Do you think we haven’t explored those?” Victor interrupted. “We have not been complacent about the health of our people in hopes that some foreigner will come save us!”

Peter had a look on his face that said he’d been shut down like that far too often in his life. His shoulders drooped a little and his body language closed off. Wade was furious to see it after all the work they’d done to get Peter to integrate into his new life. Well, it wouldn’t be the first time Wade and Victor had come to blows in the middle of a meeting.

Right when Wade went to lift his arm to take a swing at Victor, Peter’s firm hand wrapped around his wrist and pulled him back to his seat. Peter lifted his chin and stared Victor down.

“Politics change at a fast pace, and previously, you did not have the right connections. I know for a fact that Cethad would be eager to trade. They have little to export other than wood, which is a cheap trade in countries that can easily grow their own. Their relationship with Floa Bral has been deteriorating since the war. The time to push for an alliance is now while Floa Bral is still considered weak and recovering from the aftermath of the Forty Year War.”

Adam, always pushing for new trade avenues, latched onto that with gusto. “This brings up the question of what would trade best. What do we have to offer other than dragon pelts and gella?”

Victor waved his hand aggressively. “That will still take a lot of time to negotiate _if_ at all possible, and wood does not feed people. We need to be at the summer markets with as much product as possible.”

“I’m not disagreeing with that,” Peter said. “But we _should_ do both.”

Wade’s heart grew a good three sizes in his chest at hearing Peter use the word “we.” He saw himself as part of the country in a way that the word just _happened_ instead of having to be reminded. It helped to put Wade back into a very pleasant mood, despite Victor’s annoying habits of debate.

When Victor opened his mouth again, Illyana pulled out her knife and pointed it at him. “Shut your shit hole for once in your life.” She turned to Peter. “The troop called you The Haggler.”

Pink crawled up Peter’s neck and he coughed awkwardly. “I just helped some to facilitate trade with a caravan…”

“Can you find enough resources here to trade for enough food to allow for two fallow quadrants?”

“Two?!” Victor spluttered. Emma sighed and put her face in her hand.

Peter balked. “That depends on a lot of factors…”

Illyana pulled the knot from her twine and started shuffling through documents. She slid some across the table to him. “I’ll go over it with you.” Leaning over the table she went into a very long winded explanation of her thoughts on the matter and how much food production would have to be sacrificed.

At one point, Adam jumped in and began to cover how much product they had set aside for trade based on what they knew had sold in the past. Peter’s brow furrowed in concentration as he took it all in, asking the occasional question. Everyone ended up invested in the discussion. Wade was practically glowing with pride.

“Limestone?” Adam asked.

Peter nodded. “I’ve never seen such an abundance of limestone in my life. If you have that much to spare, it would sell well at market, especially in larger sheets.”

There was a limestone deposit at the center of the country that all provinces pulled from. It snaked through the land farther than the eye could see even on wyvern back. It was formed from the decayed body of an ancient dragon, one of the first children of the gods who had died young when he attempted to battle the sun and lost.

“If we traded limestone, we would need to start moving it immediately,” Wade mused. “It would take that long to get such a large amount to the border in time for the markets.”

“Also, I have an idea…” Peter looked up at everyone around him. “Kocrax is a mystery to the rest of the world. If you were to create sandstone sculptures depicting bits of knowledge that played to what people wanted to know, those would sell. Anything from small charms to giant sculptures would work.”

“Why would anyone want to purchase basic sandstone?” Victor asked, his voice easily giving away what he thought of the idea.

“It would not be as sustainable of a trade,” Peter relented. “But we could easily flood the market this summer and cause a trend. It would help to balance out the extra coin needed to purchase such large amounts of stock.”

Illyana slammed the butt of her knife against the table when Victor tried to speak again before loudly proclaiming that Peter was an expert on the whims of rich countries and trusted his opinion. They discussed it for a while longer before they came up with a tentative plan. Illyana was sent on her way before everyone else began to state their own concerns and solutions for them. After debates and a majority vote, it was set into place.

Most the the private meetings involved everyone dealing with issues and then telling Wade how to make it look like his decision. It landed him with a lot of notes, a lot of documents to sign, and way too many decrees he had to spend time issuing in person to the civil servants. Being chief was far more exhausting than he’d ever imagined it to be and he wasn’t even doing half the work he should have been.

It was well after lunch when the meeting finally wrapped up, everyone tasked with their own assignments and assessments to have ready for the next gathering of minds. They all filed out with a nod in Wade’s direction, some of them still arguing over this or that. Wade leaned back against the wall and sighed, enjoying the peace of the large room once it was only him and Peter left.

 _Peter._ Well, he knew now that Wade was in fact as incompetent as originally assumed. Wade wasn’t looking forward to the disappointed stares he would be receiving after all of that. He watched the back of Peter’s head for a while, enjoying how invested the man was in the notes he’d made. Peter’s quill was still scratching away with ideas, clarifying thoughts, and running numbers. It made Wade happy to see it, but it was also a bit melancholy to realize that Peter was already better at the whole leadership thing that Wade was.

“So I guess now you know,” Wade said, unable to wait any longer for his judgement. He just wanted to get it over with.

Peter paused and turned to look behind him. “Know what?”

“How useless I am.”

“What are you talking about?”

Wade frowned and looked down at his lap to fiddle with his fingers. “I have to have help to run things because I was never meant to have enough dumb luck to survive the mountain trial and then win the challenge against the previous chief.”

It was something he obsessed about a lot during his more depressed moments. If the world was fair, Wade would have died and someone else worth taking over would have. He had honestly thought that he’d die in Floa Bral’s war and then Ellie would take over with the High Priestess and Queen Mother standing alongside. That seemed reasonable. Wade couldn’t fathom why the gods continued to stay in his favor, seeing to his continued victory in battle.

Peter made a noise of intense frustration. “Every leader has a council! How can one person possibly know everything? Every leader from a captain to a lord or a king should always be surrounded by experts in their field and heed their advice. That is what makes a _wise_ ruler.”

Wade lifted his head to stare at Peter with wide, hopeful eyes. “So… You don’t think I’m incompetent?”

“Knowing your limitations and seeking out council is the smartest thing you could do!” Peter shuffled around to face Wade fully. “That was my entire complaint about the method of leadership here. It’s based on strength, not the knowledge needed to run a country. If there’s nothing in place to help aid the chief, then that’s just asking for trouble.”

“Oh…” Wade blinked. “Then maybe more than one chief had a private council?”

“Probably, but it was the ones that didn’t that caused such major setbacks, like the ones you are dealing with now.”

Wade sat forward and grabbed Peter by the face before dropping a long, deep kiss onto the man. Peter made a noise of alarmed surprise at the sudden action, but he didn’t fight Wade off, just relaxed into the kiss and returned it. When Wade finally pulled back, they were both flushed and a little breathless. Wade ran his thumbs along Peter’s cheeks reverently.

“I can’t believe you thought I’d be bothered by this,” Peter grumbled, giving Wade a look like a parent would to a child caught doing something wrong. Wade couldn’t help but smile at it, happy that the reason Peter was so disapproving was not at all what he’d thought it’d be.

“Thank you,” Wade whispered, his voice full of emotion.

Peter’s features softened a little. “For what?”

“For being so perfect.”

Peter turned red and tried to pull away to hide his embarrassment, but Wade had already brought their lips back together. He gathered Peter up into his arms, holding him tight. He didn’t know what he had ever done to deserve the blessing that was Peter, but he hoped that the gods would maintain their giving mood for the rest of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That council meeting was rough. I kept having to stop and search for more Marvel characters. XD
> 
> I have so much world building done in Dowhea and Ostor, and I'm probs not gonna be able to show it at all. T.T But it's all planned out, so you might see little things that refer to those details. Like how Dowhea is located along the eastern coast and their primary source of food is all seafood related. Their dragons are cool, too, but we likely won't be seeing them. T.T rip
> 
> We _will_ be seeing the summer markets because I sure do love me some sociopolitical storytelling. Don't worry! We still have action, dragons, and friends to lovers to look forward to as well!


	19. The Strays of Whaytho

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote so many words this week on so many different projects. @.@

For a long while, Peter had made his way through the city in relative anonymity. After the bonding ceremony, Wade had insisted on Peter having more guards with him when he went out. It was true that he was somewhat more recognizable now, but the guards around him had him sticking out like a sore thumb. There was no hiding his identity anymore.

To make matters worse, when Peter had announced his intentions to travel east of the river, Aleksei had been charged with escorting him. If Aleksei had a horse, Peter had never seen it. Either way, Peter rode next to Aleksei and his paeyo as they traveled through the streets towards the large bridge that would take them to East Side.

“Is a dragon really necessary?” Peter finally asked after losing count of how many times he’d had to politely smile and wave at someone pointing at him with the phrase, “That must be the foreign wife!”

“East Side can be dangerous.” Aleksei shrugged from where he was sitting cross legged on his dragon’s back. “You’re less likely to be swarmed with a dragon around ya.”

“Because it’s the poor side of the city?”

“And that means all the adults are working the fields. It’s nothing but lawless brats and the feeble bodied hungry among a bunch of merchants that don’t put up with thieving.”

“Sounds like tensions are high there.”

Aleksei patted his dragons hide. “Don’t worry, Rhino here will keep you safe.”

“That is… a unique name.”

That seemed to bring Aleksei great joy to hear. “I learned about rhinos when I was young! Have you ever seen a picture of one?”

“Can’t say that I have.”

“Ah! They’re massive beasts from the dry lands beyond the south sea! Taller than a paeyo with unbreakable bones wrapped in layer and layer of muscle. A giant horn grows out from their face, hard as a rock and solid all the way through. Once a rhino begins to charge, nothing can stop it. It could trample a dragon flat and not a bite or scratch could get through its hide!”

Peter’s eyes widened. “That sounds terrifying.”

“I thought the same thing as a child.” Aleksei laughed. “I had nightmares of it for years — would wake up screaming in the middle of the night ‘cause I thought I was about to be trampled. My mother was about ready to trample me herself in order to get a full night’s sleep.” He grinned to himself at the memory.

“And… you named your dragon after it?” Peter asked, a bit baffled at the thought.

“Of course!” Aleksei happily replied. Peter decided to just let that go.

The smell of the river was strong and earthy, though it didn’t hold the scent of sewage or fish like those in Floa Bral often did. Peter supposed that made sense considering that little could live in the waters and waste was always carefully disposed of in Kocrax. The bridge across was sturdy and well maintained, but crowded, meaning Aleksei and his dragon would not be able to ride so close by.

Or so Peter thought. The railings of the bridge were wide beams in a lattice pattern. Aleksei bent over like he was prepared to fly, whistled a command, and Rhino jumped up onto them in order to easily crawl across. They kept pace, riding sideways, as Peter and Bea slowly made their way across the busy bridge.

Upon reaching East Side, it wasn’t long before Peter could tell how different things were compared to the rest of the city. The buildings were not as unique, nor did they have the creative flare most homes had. They were simple sandstone, with basic and functional structures. Some homes looked partially melted and then patched over, as if it hadn’t set right the first time and there was no time or resources to try again. Perhaps there wasn’t.

Personal gella presses weren’t as common to see, but large rusted ones were available in the middle of large groups of homes, as were water wells with sand filters, and waste disposal setups. Karusson were rarer to find, and they were smaller or old and stubborn. Mostly they belonged to merchants with a single personal stable by their shop to keep them in.

The further they traveled to the edge of the city, the more that the issues with hunger were noticeable. Living in the palace as he was, Peter only knew of the food shortage problem on paper. He was hardly affected by it at all. Out in East Side, it was almost painful to look at. Too skinny kids running around with that gleam in their eye that said stealing from Peter might be worth the risk. He knew that look. He’d done his share of charity work growing up.

Dotted around the children were mostly older women, spinning yarn or weaving the thick grasses from what feeble personal gardens were able to produce something. The occasional loom caught Peter’s eye, old and beat up, but serviceable enough to allow the production of textiles that might sell. Many of the children’s feet were stained various colors from their work at the big dye houses. Peter knew that was one of the main jobs available for those on East Side, though it paid little.

Peter looked around him, searching for the flash of silver hair he was there to meet. He had a feeling that she would find him before he found her. He continued on his travel to the edge of the city with purpose, unconcerned about the suspicious and occasionally threatening looks he received. Aleksei and Rhino kept them all at a good distance away.

The edge of the city was abrupt, all of the life Peter had seen prior dropped unexpectedly to show little domed sandstone buildings that were certainly not big enough to stand up in. They covered a large area, most of them with tall poles beside each dome with leather bags hanging from them.

 _To keep the items safe from the floods,_ Peter realized. The domes were barely large enough to fit a person and the entrances were up only high enough to escape the average flooding from rain. Peter wasn’t sure what they did when the waters were too high. It made him sick to even think about it.

There were few people to see among the domes. Most of the flitting shadows of people were hiding from his presence. He wondered if they were all expecting to get arrested. Likely every single one of them had committed some crime in order to survive. Peter couldn’t judge them for that. What other choice did they have?

“Oh my! The Great Wife himself. To what do we lowly strays owe this honor?”

Peter pulled Bea around to find Felicia standing atop one of the domes, hands on her hips, a sarcastic smirk on her lips. Her clothing clung to her body like nothing Peter had seen in Kocrax prior. She was purposefully showing off her… _assets._ She noticed him looking and her smile took on a sultry flare as her hand moved down her hip.

“Does our chief not satisfy you? Need something a little softer to warm your cock? I have some friends, you know. We could help you out.”

Aleksei scoffed. “And leave him gutted and stripped of all he owns.”

Felicia shrugged like murder wasn’t much of a concern for her. “Men pay a high price for good sex. Who am I to deny them?”

Peter cleared his throat. “I’m here with a different kind of offer.” He dug out the small charm he’d been working on for days and tossed it to her. She caught it easily and turned it over in her hand a few times, studying it. “I made that from sandstone.”

“I can tell.” She held up his sad attempt at a dragon head with its uneven teeth and mismatched horns. In his defense, he was better at painting than sculpting. “It’s hideous.”

Aleksei choked on a snort and tried to look serious again. Peter didn’t bother obsessing over it. He knew full well it looked terrible. That wasn’t the point. “Can you make one better than that?”

She raised her eyebrows at him. “I think even an infant could make one better than this.”

Harsh, but Peter let it slide with only a slight sting to his pride. “Good to hear. How many of them can you make by spring?”

Felicia eyed him for a long moment, trying to determine what the catch was. “Are you offering me a job making pointless trinkets?”

“No, I’m offering _all_ of the strays a job making pointless trinkets.”

That didn’t make her look any happier. “Why? Because you were taught to pity the foreigners with no family?”

Peter had learned a lot recently about strays. In a country where family had no limit and a child could easily grow up with five or more parents with an almost unlimited extended family, it was rare to end up without any family at all. In fact, it was considered a curse of the gods. Orphans were labeled as corrupt and shunned from the rest of society. So all of those rare cases ended up on the outskirts of Eade Side and called themselves strays.

Had Wade not come back from war and had Ellie’s grandmother died, she would have ended up the first stray to take over as chief. It was a close call for Ellie and she would have been challenged for it immediately, child or not. Ellie had been prepared for that possibility by the Queen Mother the day Wade left the city with his troop of soldiers — and every day since. Thus, Wade was more sympathetic to the plight of strays than most.

As a stray himself, so was Peter.

“We need every possible item we can trade when we go to the summer markets in Q’otha.” Peter said, unfazed by her hostility. He understood it. He’d often lived it throughout his life in Droana. “Bits of knowledge and history, or just pointless sculptures of dragons, is something that would sell to the well off and curious. I need a large force of people who know how to work with sandstone in order to make these pieces.”

Felicia flipped the little dragon into the air and caught it, over and over again. “And since the strays have to build their own homes from raw sand we gather ourselves, you see us as the logical option.”

“Yes.”

They stared at each other. Peter couldn’t deny that it was charity and he knew what that felt like on the receiving end. He never felt grateful for it; he felt useless and looked down on. It was as if he was only there in order to make other people feel better about themselves for a bit, only to forget him the moment he was out of sight.

Which was why Peter had to have a legitimate reason to _hire_ the strays instead of dumping donations on them. Felicia, and any other stray around her, would rather steal than beg. When a person has nothing to their name, holding onto what little pride they have left becomes a matter of survival.

Felicia stared at Peter and saw that he understood that. She flipped the little dragon head high once more. “Did you leave family behind in your country?”

“No.” Peter kept his response simple. It didn’t need any details, Felicia understood perfectly fine without them.

She snatched the little charm out of the air in a firm grip. “What’s our payment?”

Peter pulled out a roll of clean parchment. “Let’s negotiate.”

 

~*~

 

The next couple of months set up a new schedule for Peter. He was in meetings with Wade regularly, along with his task of overseeing the production of the sculptures. They needed to have everything finished prior to the spring rains ending. Directly after that, the caravan would head for the border.

When Peter was not doing one of those things, he was either in the cage with the baby dragons, or visiting Shiklah with Wade and learning to ride double. It was a lot of information on dragon training and riding all at once. He often made notes for himself once back at the palace.

Things were stressful, what with being suddenly thrown into the middle of the whole saving the country thing while simultaneously trying to still _learn_ about said country. Not to mention, the private meetings with Wade’s council often ended up just people screaming at each other unhelpfully. Peter was painstakingly teaching them how to debate more effectively based on his lessons with Uncle Ben. Some took to it better than others.

Wade had ideas at night about how to take the edge off the stress. He always offered to do things for Peter, or worse, he begged Peter to fuck him. If Peter refused, Wade would often take care of himself in another room. He was never upset at being turned down. The problem was that Peter was also looking to take the edge off and late at night after a hard day and a long neglected libido… Peter rarely said no.

He convinced himself that they were just friends helping each other out in a time of need. They had no others they could turn to at the moment. After the bonding ceremony, it wasn’t like there was much left to embarrass Peter. So it was fine. It was just a little stress relief. It was _fine._

Except Peter obsessed about it constantly whenever his mind found a free moment. Those free moments should _not_ be happening in the training cage with hyper baby dragons, but the extreme anxiety had long ago faded, leaving the task just a regular everyday chore. _Training dragons_ had become a monotonous routine. What had his life become?

A few other teens were in the cage with Peter and they were trying to use a reward based system to teach basic commands. Two of the dragons were running around them in circles, defying everything and trying to steal the jerky treats that were being kept at bay. Apparently, it would take a few years for the rambunctiousness of the dragons to settle down, but they _were_ learning, whether they followed through with the commands or not.

Wade had trained his fair share of dragons and made all the mistake possible, never having bonded with a single paeyo. He’d imparted all of that knowledge to Peter, making it easier for him to see the mistakes the other kids were making in their attempts to train. Not that it made Peter much better at his own job. He usually stood back, gripping his spear, and protecting his bucket of jerky. He’d only offer one if the dragons remained calm around him.

Peter’s lack luster training technique was frustrating to the veteran trainers, and a source of great comedy for Wade. The teasing he received for it was friendly and just enough of a jab to get Peter riled up. Then at night, Peter wouldn’t hesitate much at all before bending Wade over and—

Something touched Peter’s leg and he jumped. Once more, he’d been distracted by thoughts of Wade. What was wrong with him? He looked down to find the third of the dragon babies settling down next to him. It flopped down onto its butt and then leaned its upper body into Peter side. It was terrifying, and Peter’s chest seized up at the sight of it. He rarely let them get that close to him, but that was back when he was actually _paying attention._

The only reason that Peter didn’t immediately jump away and bring his spear up, or call for help, was because it was Lumpy. Sure, Peter wasn’t supposed to name the dragons. Once they bonded with a rider, the rider chose their name. Still, Peter had ended up giving them nicknames in his head — Lumpy, Sassy, and Snuffles.

Lumpy was bigger than the other two, but a lot calmer. He had come to realize that Peter just liked it when things were calm. So he’d developed a process of just sitting at staring at Peter until he was given a treat. That had been a little creepy at first, and then scary as Lumpy kept pushing into Peter’s personal bubble, but now it was expected.

Peter still found himself worried that Lumpy would snap one day and bite him, but it hadn’t happened. Stabbing a piece of jerky with the pointed end of his spear, Peter held it out to Lumpy who delicately pulled it off and started gnawing on it, all while continuing to lean against Peter.

“Keep that up and you might bond with him.”

Peter looked up to see Queen Mother walking into the chaos that was dragon training. His eyes grew wide as her words filtered in. “But you said only those that are meant to be riders can bond.”

That knowing smile pulled at her lips. “Exactly.”

“But I’m not Craxian.”

She shook her head at him as if he were being purposefully dense. “You have been Craxian since the bonding, but more than that, you were born touched by Sakit.”

Peter looked back down at Lumpy who tilted his head back and slowly blinked. A rider? Could Peter really do that? The thought of flying was both thrilling and terrifying. It had never really occurred to him that it was something he could do in his life, so he hadn’t given it much thought.

Carefully, Peter reached out and settled one hand on Lumpy’s neck, giving it a light pat. Lumpy rumbled in return, leaning more of his weight into Peter. Maybe… Maybe if it was Lumpy, then the thought of taming and riding a dragon didn’t seem so impossible.

Lumpy opened his mouth and made a noise Peter recognized. He sighed and speared another piece of jerky for Lumpy to eat. Then again, maybe the dragon just wanted to eat and Peter seemed like an easy target for treats. That would make much more sense for Peter’s life.

Queen Mother smiled at him. “Let’s try getting him to earn one of those treat, shall we? You’re not learning much just standing around. Give him the command to crouch.”

Peter shook his head and his shoulders slumped in defeat. They just couldn’t let him do things the easy way. He tapped his spear into the ground and whistled the command. Lumpy stared at him with bored eyes, looked at the bucket of treats, then back at Peter and huffed.

Yeah, Peter was perhaps not so cut out for the whole dragon trainer business.

 

~*~

 

A stack of papers sat beside Peter as he hunched over the table, taking his time as he wrote a letter, wanting to make sure his penmanship wasn’t awful for once. Wade walked into sitting room and plopped down beside Peter, back leaned up against the edge of the table and legs stretched out in front of him. He peered at the letter, watching as Peter carefully finished off a sentence.

“Is that in Bralish?” Wade asked.

“Yes.” Peter set his quill down and stretched to unlock his tense muscles. He’d been buried in paperwork for too long that day. “I only really have one friend in Floa Bral, and I was not in the best mindset to write a proper letter before I left.”

Wade hummed his understanding but thankfully didn’t bring up the reasons Peter would have been too upset to write. They were past most of that now. Peter had accepted his current course in life and was doing his best with it.

Peter pulled out some of his notes and turned to Wade. “Do you think you can box up some soil samples from each crop quadrant, the land your attempting to fertilize, and some soil from places where nothing can grow?” Peter handed over the notes of how much he figured he needed. Wade looked them over, chewing on his lip.

“You think your friend can help?”

“I don’t know. This isn’t something he can do personally, but he has a lot of connections through his family’s trading company. Perhaps he can figure something out. It’s worth a shot.”

Wade set the parchment down beside him. “I hope you’re good enough friends for him to help an enemy country.”

Peter shook his head. “You’re not an enemy country. At least, not currently, not after helping end the war. And even if you were, Harry would help anyways. I can always count on him.”

A soft smile pulled at Wade’s lips. “I’m glad to hear your life wasn’t _complete_ shit in Floa Bral.”

Something about that response had Peter’s chest feeling warm. A few times, they had ended up discussing parts of Peter’s life growing up. He wasn’t the type of person to open up easily, but Wade had a way of drawing it out of Peter. There was a lot of sympathy from Wade, and comfort, but never pity. It always helped Peter to feel more relaxed in his presence.

Wade nodded his head at the notes. “I can have that added to the caravan before they set out. The limestone caravan is making good time despite the rain. Everything should arrive at the border within a week of each other, then they’ll be able to move into Q’otha.”

Peter nodded, pulling over his timeline. The caravan from Whaytho should be leaving in a couple of weeks… “I should start packing.” Peter had to be with them in order to guarantee their place in the markets. It was probably for the best, considering how poorly their last attempts to trade with others had gone.

“About that…” Wade leaned forward, looking hopeful. “I need you here to help with the council meetings. We’ve gotten a lot more done with you around. Not to mention, we need you to help word things in fancy political language if we’re going to have a chance at negotiating with Cethad. We can’t afford for you to be gone for nearly half a year.”

“I can’t be in two places at once,” Peter pointed out. “I have to be there for the markets.”

“I know that.” Wade fidgeted in that way he did when he was about to suggest something he thought Peter would turn down. “But you can still be there without traveling along with the caravan.”

Peter knitted his brows together. “How?”

“I can fly you out when they reach the border.”

For a moment, Peter stopped breathing. “Fly? On a dragon? I can’t fly!”

“You can’t,” Wade agreed. “But I can. I also happen to have the only dragon capable of letting us fly double.”

Peter shook his head, struggling to find the words to respond. “There’s a big difference between riding around the mountain with Shiklah and… _flying_.”

“We’ll need to get in some more practice time, sure, and go over some techniques you haven’t gotten to with the babies, but it’ll be fine! Shiklah is the best choice for this. She’s calm, steady, and intuitive. Plus, she likes you!”

“I…” It was hard to say no in the face of logic. Peter _did_ need to be around for further meetings. Honestly, he didn’t have the time to spare to even be at the summer markets for the month or so of trading, but they didn’t have a choice. But apparently, they _did_ have a choice on how long Peter would be absent.

“It’ll be fine!” Wade pushed. “I can pick you up again after the markets. I’ll have someone send word before you get to the border so I can come get you and we’ll fly back. Much better than sleeping in a tent for months!”

That was true. Peter would be able to stay comfortable during that time, keep up with changes in the meetings, continue his training, and spend more time with Wade and Ellie. If he were being honest with himself, he really didn’t want to be away from them for so long after just being accepted into their family.

And that came at the small cost of… _flying on a dragon._

“What if something goes wrong?” Peter asked, a thousand scenarios of his sudden death flashing through his mind.

“It won’t, and even if it does, Shiklah won’t let anything happen to you. _I_ won’t let anything happen to you.” Wade leaned forward and brushed his fingers through Peter’s hair. “Please?”

Peter fretted about it for longer, but there was something comforting in the feeling of Wade’s hand at his temple. It was unfair being reminded of all that he would miss if he was gone for so long. The look in Wade’s blue eyes pulled at Peter, and he found himself believing it might be alright.

“Um…”

Wade shuffled around so he could bring their lips together. Like usual, Peter fell into the kiss, enjoying it far more than logic said that he should. His mind screamed at him that he didn’t want to be alone anymore. Especially not with Wade so ready and willing to fill that emptiness in Peter’s heart that had been there for so long now…

“Stay here with me,” Wade murmured against Peter’s lips.

“Alright.”

Then Wade was kissing again, harder that time, devouring Peter in the way that shut his mind down and lit his body on fire. His hands found their way to Wade’s body, giving as good as he was getting. It was so easy to just let himself get swept away and drown Wade’s neverending passion.

Large hands pushed their way under the layers of fabric Peter was wearing, caressing and gripping at all the places Wade seemed to enjoy teasing. A smile played on Wade’s lips as he pulled back enough to speak. “Let me use my mouth.”

Peter cheeks lit up. “I’m starting to think you actually enjoy that,” he tried to be angry enough to cover up his arousal.

Wade chuckled. “I do!”

“You’re depraved.”

“I’m starting to think you like me that way,” Wade responded with a wicked grin. Peter gaped, struggling to find a response to that. He didn’t get a chance to think of anything.

Wade slid down and dove under Peter’s clothes, making fast work of everything in order to get to what he wanted. Peter gasped as warm and wet surrounded him. His hands immediately shot out to grip Wade’s head and shoulders for support. It was almost like every time Wade did that, he got better at it.

Peter moaned and lamented the fact that when it came to Wade’s mouth, he was a lost cause.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragon bones are hollow (like a bird) to facilitate flying, so in a fight between a dragon and a rhino, a rhino would win. And yes, the heavy natural armor on a paeyo’s body is the main reason that they have low stamina since their bones and musculature have a harder time supporting the weight, especially with a rider added on top.
> 
> One of the more uncomfortable things to note about charity, is how much the person receiving it dislikes it. No matter the intentions of the giver or their own circumstances and needs, charity often leaves a person feeling worthless and looked down on. Like they failed at life. It can have a serious psychological effect on those suffering from poverty when in the scope of the well off, or even just having to deal with circumstances that leaves a person helpless. I think it’s remiss not to address it in sociopolitical stories, and I always appreciate stories that touch on this, which is why I addressed it the way I did.
> 
> As much as I love Kocrax and their open poly culture, one should of course always think about the backlash of those cultures. Societal norms and tradition leaves holes that people can fall into and thus be shunned for. In a society focused on family, orphans would be that hole.
> 
> Someone in the comments asked if I would compile all my answers to people asking extra stuff about the universe into a single place. I thought that'd be easy. My ocd said, _I was wrong_. So now I'm writing up a full extended universe doc with super organized thoughts that I will post eventually. If you have anything you'd like me to include in said extended universe doc, please let me know.
> 
> My second YoI Bing fic went up and if you like extremely kinky smut, you should take a gander at it. Mind the tags.  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/14245131


	20. A Rainy Afternoon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been talking to a reader on tumblr that was _very_ upset about a certain something missing from this story. So this chapter contains a gift to them. Try and guess what it is.

The problem with riding double on a dragon was that dragons weren’t built well to handle safety measures to begin with. There were reins wrapped around the snout of a dragon, sure, but if something were to happen and the rider was thrown, those reins were useless. Holding on meant dangling weight that a dragon wouldn’t be able to balance and both man and beast would end up tumbling to the ground.

Logically, Peter understood that. If something went wrong, the rider would just have to fall and hope the dragon was well bonded enough to to catch them. Everyone else saw that as an acceptable risk. Peter was not at all a fan and was quickly regretting his decision to fly.

Shiklah stood at the edge of a cliff, Wade lying flat on her back, feet pressed in the right places to keep him steady, and hands gripping along the spines of her neck. Wade didn’t use reins. He didn’t need them. He had bonded and learned to ride without them. That didn’t make Peter feel anymore confident.

Peter was splayed out on Shiklah’s back further down to help distribute the weight between two full grown men. It was nothing like riding double on a horse where Peter was pressed tight to Wade’s body. Peter just hand to hold onto the natural groves and divots of Shiklah’s hide and trust her.

Trust was never Peter’s strong suit.

The lessons currently were just gliding. The plan was for Shiklah to hop off the edge and glide down to the bottom. It was supposed to be quick and easy. Peter felt ready to puke at any moment. His grip on Shiklah increased enough that his arms shook with the force of it.

“Ready?” Wade called over his shoulder.

“No!” Peter choked out.

“Then here we go!”

The first drop of gravity pulled at Peter’s stomach and he tried to scream, but his lungs refused to work. He shut his eyes tight, buried his face into Shiklah’s hide, and hung on for dear life. Wind whipped by him and every time the body beneath him tilted to adjust, he was prepared to plummet to his death.

After what felt like an eternity, they landed. Wade had to help pry Peter’s locked fingers off of where he was holding on. Peter had collapsed immediately after, unable to even stand up, and lost the contents of his stomach. There had been no further practice that day.

Peter spent a long time that night staring at the stars and thinking things over. He was stronger now than when he first left Droana and able to trust his own ability to stay seated on a dragon. He trusted Wade to make sure things were okay. If Peter were honest, he even trusted Shiklah to make sure Peter stayed safe. She was a calm and steady dragon, a stark contrast to Wade himself.

Most of all, Peter had to ask himself who he was. Kocrax lived off the thrill of the moment. They craved adventure, action, and the rush of battle. Was Peter a stuffy Brals who looked down on anything but the romanticized ennui of stories about others who sought adventure and suffered for it? Or was he a Craxian that lived for the next exciting moment in life?

The next time Peter went to practice, he did a lot better. Instead of hiding from the fear and adrenaline, he embraced it. It left him shaky and short of breath, but he was able to climb back up and go again. By the third trip, he felt confident enough to lift his head and look around them.

The trees and rocks rushed by in a blur, the vista below them spreading out farther than Peter had ever experienced. It was awe inspiring and beautiful, leaving a tingle racing along his skin. The wind whipped his hair around erratically, the ends of it stinging his cheeks. He’d never experienced such speed before. No horse could possibly keep up with even the casual glide Shiklah kept them in.

Peter’s lips parted in awe as he gazed at the mountain side, the fields in the distance, and the hazy dots of the city. It was at that point the moment was ruined by a bug flying into his mouth. Peter hacked and spit, only to have that spit get caught by a gust and slap him in the face. He spent the rest of the trip trying to wipe his face off on his shirt while still hanging on appropriately.

Wade was wheezing laughing by the time they landed. Peter had officially decided that he hated flying. He’d have to look into getting a mask or something…

 

~*~

 

Any letters or missives sent to or from Kocrax had to be delivered by dragon. Carrier birds had too high of a risk of being eaten to take the chance on them. Since dragons couldn’t leave the country easily, it meant all international communication had to be delivered to Q’otha or held there in the care of someone on retainer until it could be retrieved.

Typically a small group was sent out to facilitate that a few times a year, but with the caravan heading into the markets, it was a perfect opportunity to send off and pick up anything relevant. It also meant that they had to make sure everything was together for their opening negotiations with Cethad.

Peter had spent a solid two weeks going through every curse and insult that the council brought up and convincing them that it was _not_ proper political jargon when negotiating with a foreign king. Wade had long ago stopped arguing semantics and trusted Peter’s knowledge of foreign affairs. The rest of the council was not so satisfied with Peter’s methods.

Keeping in mind all that the council wanted to say and then translating that appropriately in fancy political talk in time for summer was all Peter’s task. Wade could only assist in making sure Peter wasn’t outvoted on whether or not things like “we graciously forgive you for being assholes in the past” could be used in their official letter. Wade made sure to hint at Peter that he could take a few liberties when writing things up.

To say that Peter was stressed would be an understatement. Wade did what he could to help the man relax, but he was quickly discovering that Peter had a bad habit of internalizing far too much responsibility for others. There was a high chance that Cethad would refuse trade agreements because the risk was just too high, but if they did, Peter was primed and ready to blame himself for it.

Wade wasn’t sure what to do about it other than try and pull Peter from his own head whenever possible. At the moment, Peter was scribbling away, making notes on the best ways to phrase things in order to get their opening letter all spiffed up. A plate of food sat beside him, largely untouched. Wade had to call Peter’s name three times to get his attention.

“ _What_?” Peter snapped. At Wade’s surprised look, Peter’s anger trickled away. He scrubbed at his face. “Sorry…”

Wade scooted the plate a little closer. “You skipped breakfast and you haven’t touched much of your lunch.”

“I just… haven’t been that hungry.” Peter begrudgingly took a bite of food anyways.

“If you collapse from not eating, you won’t be able to yell at me for making dumb decisions,” Wade teased.

“That insinuates that there’s a _right_ decision, and I wish there was. It’s just a series of _really bad_ to _maybe bad_.” Peter propped his elbows on the table, dropped his face into his hands, and groaned.

“Leadership sucks balls,” Wade agreed, patting Peter on the shoulder. “I’d say a nice ride would help, but it’s going to rain soon.”

The air was heavy with humidity and outside, dark grey clouds were rolling by, threatening rain, but not yet releasing it. The upside was that the days were getting progressively hotter, so the rain should help cool the air once more. The doors leading to the patio were open to encourage the cool breeze to sweep out the stale hot air in their suite of rooms.

“C’mon, you’ve been hunched over a table for nearly a week. You need to move around.” Wade pulled a reluctant Peter to his feet.

“Wade, it’s hot, and I have work to do.”

“Shush, shush.” Wade brushed off the protests and strained his ears to listen.

In the distance was the soft and muffled tones of music. Peter didn’t know it, but Wade had heavily hinted to a few Priestesses that they should hold music lessons in the palace. Particularly the students with talent. Wade had hoped that the music would help to relax Peter, though he honestly couldn’t tell if it was working or not.

“You hear that?” Wade asked. “It’s just begging me to teach you how to dance.”

Peter scoffed. “I _know_ how to dance. I was thoroughly trained in it.”

Wade rolled his eyes. “I’ve seen your country’s idea of dancing. All stiff and calm.” He mimicked it, holding his body ridgid with one arm up, other hand propped on his hip with his elbow jutted out, as he slowly walked in a circle around Peter. “Is my nose up high enough?”

An almost smile tugged at Peter’s lips, but he fought it off. “Just because Craxians like to make weird movements doesn’t mean Brals don’t know how to dance.”

“Weird movements?” Wade dropped his arms, feigning extreme offense. “How dare! Every move has a _meaning_ behind it. I should know, it was beat into my head by the Priestesses my whole life.” He let his voice show how much he hadn’t cared for that as a child.

Once more, the promise of a smile whispered across Peter’s face before being contained. Wade cursed the entire country of Floa Bral for teaching Peter to be so reserved. “I take it the meanings are all dragon related?”

“Of course! What do you take us for? Bird lovers?”

Peter’s eyes crinkled with mirth and Wade didn’t waste the opportunity. He swooped in and grabbed Peter’s hand, lifting it and setting the finger’s into the proper position so his hand formed a dragon’s head. “Now, curl your arm through the air like it has no bones.”

“My arm _does_ have bones, though.”

“It’s the effort that counts.”

Wade walked Peter through the basics like how to move his body fluidly and not with the stiff movements taught to him by his stuck up country. Once Peter was able to move his arms appropriately, they went into steps. It was all about staying light on the feet to facilitate bouncing between them and easily transitioning into the various kick movements. What Peter couldn’t seem to handle at all was moving his torso smoothly.

“Just like your arms,” Wade encouraged. “Don’t stay still.”

Peter huffed. “I feel like I’m just stumbling around like an idiot.”

“Well, you don’t look majestic if I’m being honest.” That earned Wade a punch to the shoulder and he laughed. “Alright! What about you? Show me a dance _I’ll_ struggle at, even if it’s _boring_.”

Peter raised his eyebrows. “Fine. I learned a commoner’s dance as a child. I’ll show it to you.”

“Please tell me the commoners know how to have fun.”

“Pay attention.”

Peter went through basics of the dance. The stiff posture and hands held in the air was still there, but it was faster, trading off with a partner regularly, and there were more turns and twirls to it. It looked simple enough, but Wade quickly found that was deceptive. Keeping up with how many times the dance changed was tough, and he often found himself stumbling around while trying to mirror Peter’s moves.

Once Wade got the hang of it, Peter would speed up, pushing Wade’s memory little by little. They were both sweating and breathing heavily in no time, the warm humid air making it more of a workout than it normally would have been. Every time Wade fumbled to keep up, a little bit more mirth would seep onto Peter’s face.

When Wade was at last fed up with the dance that never slowed, he grabbed Peter’s raised hand, wrapped his other arm around the man’s narrow waist, and twirled them together around the room. It was that move that broke the layer of ice over Peter. He laughed, free and unabashed, his face lighting up, teeth gleaming in the low light of the room. Wade felt his heart stop for a moment.

The sudden roar of a cloudburst startled them both to a stop. Outside, the rain fell in heavy sheets, almost impossible to see through. It looked heavenly, given how much they had exerted themselves. Wade didn’t pause, he just pulled Peter out of the open doors and into the hard downpour that drenched them both in seconds.

Peter tilted his head back, slicking his hands through his hair and letting the cool water wash over him. Wade was more than a little entranced by the sight. His fingers moved of their own accord, pulling at the ties of Peter’s clothes. That earned him a _look._

“We should take advantage of the hard rain to clean up,” Wade said, voice loud so he could be heard over the deafening force of raindrops slamming into so much dirt and sandstone.

“Oh is that all?” Peter asked, voice heavy with sarcasm.

With a smirk, Wade went over to a small box that lived on the patio. He opened it up and pulled out a chunk of soap, shaking it at Peter to prove it was a common thing to do in the spring rains when lightning was nowhere to be seen. Not that Wade wasn’t also appreciative of seeing Peter naked. He had put on some muscle since coming to Kocrax and Wade loved to run his tongue over the faint definition of Peter’s abs.

Without argument, Peter stripped, as he was always happy to take the opportunity to be clean. Wade undressed at well, rubbing the soap over him in hurried movements so that he could focus on Peter. Pampering his wife was something Wade took great joy in. He ran the soap over Peter’s skin in long strokes, his other hand following behind to lather it up so that the rain could wash it away. Peter had long ago stopped arguing the little things and just stood there and let Wade do as he pleased.

Touching Peter was always a joy and reminded Wade of just how lucky he was. He realized that he was a lost cause, even before the bonding. But after Peter’s vows and the magical night they’d spent together, how could Wade not be head over heels? He never thought he’d be this happy with someone of his own again.

Wade dropped to his knees to wash Peter’s feet and legs, working his way up hard calves and thighs before trailing into the crease of Peter’s groin. The soft length of Peter’s cock twitched, calling Wade to it. He ran his fingers over it carefully, peeling back the foreskin and making sure every little crevice was as squeaky clean as possible. He moved down to the balls, cradling them gently as he cleaned them before sliding back to massage Peter’s perineum.

Hands fell on Wade’s head in a way that meant Peter was enjoying it. The deafening rain drowned out the soft gasps and sighs that would normally escape Peter’s lips. It was a loss, but Wade had other plans to make up for it. His finger slipped further back, slick with soap, to bury itself between Peter’s cheeks. He rubbed carefully over the bud of Peter’s entrance, head tilted back to keep an eye on the man’s reactions.

Peter’s legs shifted further apart, almost too imperceptible to notice, but Wade always noticed every little thing Peter did. Taking it as the encouragement it was, Wade eased his finger upwards, carefully sliding inside. Peter quivered, his fingers gripping tighter to Wade’s skin. The look on his face of arousal mixed with a tinge of nervousness…

Wade stood up, keeping the finger in place, but his other hand came up to grip the back of Peter’s neck and pull him into a kiss. He wanted to see nothing but ecstasy on Peter’s face at all times. Kissing the man senseless was the best way to accomplish that.

As expected, Peter fell into Wade’s mouth, his hands wrapping tight around Wade’s shoulders. The feeling of Peter’s soft tongue and pliant lips had Wade moaning in no time. He moved his finger carefully, cleaning Peter, teasing him. Wade slid one leg between Peter’s and was excited to find the man eager to rub against it. Peter was _enjoying_ himself.

Wade wanted to show how much more Peter could enjoy it.

Pulling back, Wade found soft brown eyes with blown pupils looking at him. It was a good frame of mind for Peter to be in. Just aroused enough to try what Wade wanted to do next. Removing his finger, Wade guided Peter over to the railing of that looked out on the mountain vista, though it was impossible to see anything other than the grey sheets of rain at the moment.

Peter was pliant and allowed himself to be bent over the railing, ass exposed. Wade lovingly pulled Peter’s cheeks apart, letting the rain wash away the traces of soap. Nestled in the middle of that perfect round butt was Peter’s freshly cleaned hole. Wade licked his lips and fell to his knees. It was a toss up if Peter would allow Wade to do what he had in mind given the hangups Peter already had about cocksucking.

 _Better to ask forgiveness than permission,_ Wade thought to himself before shoving his face between Peter’s cheeks.

Wade felt the muscles in Peter’s body tense and barely heard the choked off noise of surprise over the roar of rain. Wade was prepared to be shoved away, but Peter didn’t move, so Wade ran his tongue along the sensitive skin. He licked and suckled on the area, taking note of the trembling building in Peter’s legs.

Still, Peter didn’t pull away. So Wade gave it all he had, enjoying everything to the fullest in case this was his only chance to do so. One hand kept Peter’s cheeks spread, while the other slipped forward to wrap around Peter’s erection. The throbbing of the cock in his hand let Wade know he was doing a good job.

Peter’s hole twitched and clenched, but slowly loosened under Wade’s unrelenting attention. The first chance Wade was given, he slipped his tongue inside, caressing from the inside out. That time, he _did_ hear the noise Peter made.

The rain eased some, still heavy, but not nearly so all consuming. It meant that Wade could better hear the sounds of his lips smacking against wet skin. For Peter’s part, he seemed to be trying to hold back now that he could more easily be heard. Wade tightened his grip on Peter’s cock and slipped his tongue inside once more. The choked of moan from Peter was worth it.

Wade felt ready to pop at any moment, he was so turned on. His own cock hung heavy and neglected between his legs, but it wasn’t important. What mattered was pleasing Peter. Whenever Peter would let go and allow himself to be lost to sensation, drowning in all that Wade did for him, it was a gift. Wade treasured those moments above any quick rut his cock might desire.

Peter’s ass clenched around Wade’s tongue and a desperate whine filled the air. Knowing how close Peter was tested Wade’s restraint. His gut clenched and his cock throbbed with desire. He wanted to be inside of Peter, but that was pushing things too much. At the very least, he wanted to watch as Peter came undone under Wade’s hands.

In so thinking, Wade stood up and flipped Peter around, pushing him back against the railing, one hand gripping Peter’s chin to make sure it stayed tilted up. Wade’s other hand wrapped around their cocks, stroking furiously. Peter panted, his hands reaching out to grip at Wade’s biceps. Peter’s face was contorted a look so desperate it was almost painful, but softened by the far gone fuzziness of arousal. It was beautiful.

It didn’t take them long to reach climax, the white of their seed slowly being washed away by the rivulets of water under their feet. Wade curled forward and pressed his face into Peter’s neck, kissing and biting marks into the skin. Peter languidly slid his arms up to wrap around Wade’s neck and shoulders. It felt like bliss.

They stayed like that for a long moment, just breathing and letting the rain cool their skin. When the warmth of their coupling finally faded and a light chill from the rain shower replaced it, Wade decided it was time to head back inside. He wrapped an arm around Peter’s waist and lead the way. Wade felt warm and satiated, content in the feel of Peter’s body pressed against his side.

Peter stayed silent the entire time and didn’t even complain when Wade nabbed some towels — silently placed by hidden servants — and began to dry them off. Wade had the great pleasure of ruffling the water from Peter’s hair. Caring for his loved ones always brought him a sense of peace. He was pretty sure Peter had figured that out already.

A collection of lounging cushions sat in the corner of the room. Wade brought them over to it, laying back and pulling Peter down onto his chest. It seemed like a miracle that Peter hadn’t argued any of it so far. Wade decided to live in the moment and just enjoy the feeling of Peter’s weight and warmth pressing down on him, the feel of Peter’s breath over his skin, and the long limbs tangling with his own.

“You have no shame,” Peter murmured.

Wade grinned and ran his fingers through Peter’s damp hair. “I think it’s one of my most appealing qualities.”

For a long while Peter stayed silent, slowly rising and falling with Wade’s breaths. At last, he said, “I think I’ve worked up an appetite.”

“Let me feed you!” That came out with more enthusiasm than Wade had intended to show. There was a tense pause from Peter and Wade held his breath in anticipation. He really needed to learn how to control his outbursts…

“You can feed me while I work,” Peter compromised.

“Deal!”

“And you have to finish writing up your decrees afterwards.”

With a _lot_ less excitement, Wade mumbled, “Deal…”

“And at least find us some robes to wear.”

But as grumpy as Peter sounded, he didn’t move from his spot. They cuddled for a while longer before Peter’s growling stomach convinced them to move. Wade was absolutely glowing with pleasure as he fed bites to his hard working wife. The feeling of Peter’s soft lips catching on the rough pads of Wade’s fingers had him hard again in no time. It was almost worth having to finish up his own paperwork after.

Who was he kidding? It was totally worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The answer was: Peter laughing.  
> I bet you thought it was the ass eating. That's not a bad guess. There's a certain someone I know who loves that so SURPRISE! double gifts. hehehe
> 
> This was really a great opportunity to use the idea that's been floating around in my head about downpour bathing. I wasn't sure how to fit it in, so this was perfect. I also got to talk about dancing! I looked up a lot of videos on ancient dance in the different cultures I used as inspiration for both countries. I'm actually really into dance (even if my body won't let me do it anymore T.T) so I was super happy about that research and planning how to explain it in text. ^.^
> 
> Travel time next chapter! I hope you're stoked. I'm using the week long updates to try and catch up on chapters so I can have a cushion again. I don't wanna put too much of a delay between updates if something goes down like getting sick again. (Don't worry about all the YoI fics I'm posting. I knock those out in like 3 hours. XD)


	21. Take Flight

Ellie had given Peter a good luck charm before he left on his trip. It was sweet and Peter was only slightly hurt at how much better it looked than his previous sad attempt at making a dragon head. She had even escorted Peter and Wade out to Sahmset Mountain the day they were set to leave and took the job of leading the horses back. Peter was all smiles, trying desperately to ignore the sinking feeling he had about the upcoming flight.

He had been doing a lot better in practice and they had even flown around the mountain a few times without incident. However, it was a far cry different than what was about to happen. They were going to be flying all day, and at a far greater height, while also going across wild paeyo territory. It left Peter barely able to eat breakfast, he was so nervous.

Of course, Peter wasn’t sure what was better: his anxiousness about the long flight, or his confusion about the other day. Something had happened that rainy afternoon and things had changed. Peter didn’t really want to admit it, but it was hard to ignore it anymore. He had… _felt_ something. Something he’d never thought he would feel for Wade.

Peter was so lost in his thoughts that he was surprised to realize that Wade and Ellie had finished strapping the oiled leather bag to Shiklah’s neck. She didn’t seem to appreciate it, but didn’t claw at it. The carefully wrapped up bag contained all of the missives, letters, and documentation needed for the trip. Everything else Peter would need for the long stay was with the caravan and had left long ago.

Ellie ran over to hug Peter and wish him a safe trip. She leaned in and whispered, “Will you get me a gift at the market?”

Peter smiled. “Like a necklace?”

She shrugged, looking uninterested, and then her face lit up once more. “I heard they sell assassin throwing blades there!”

Honestly, Peter didn’t know why he was surprised.

Wade scooped Ellie up into a too tight hug that she complained about loudly. “You aren’t asking for things you want before we get the country fixed, are you?”

Ellie pouted. “You got a necklace!”

“That… That’s different.” Wade blushed.

Peter’s chest felt warm seeing it, and he couldn’t help but notice as Wade fiddled with said necklace, the bulk of it stuffed inside his shirt for safe keeping. He still never took it off. That had begun to pull at Peter in a way he never thought it would. He looked away, unsure of how to process his current emotions.

Not long after, Ellie was heading back, and Wade and Peter were riding Shiklah as she climbed up the mountain. This time when they launched off the cliff, they wouldn’t be landing so soon. Peter was hot in his more form fitting outfit, the leather covering all of his skin. He even had a mask he would put over his face. It would keep his hair back, mouth and nose protected, but still allow him to see.

Wade had said that the higher up and faster they flew, the more Peter would appreciate the warmer clothing. That remained to be seen. Still, Peter focused on how uncomfortable he felt in the summer heat rather than on his obsessive thoughts or the sight of Wade’s backside in such tight clothes.

At last, they were at one of Shiklah’s favorite drop offs. They all settled into position, Peter feeling better about his ability after all the training. He was fairly confident he could make it the long flight. Fairly confident… He swallowed hard.

“You can’t fall asleep this time, you know!” Wade called over his shoulder.

Peter scowled. “That was _one_ time!”

“It was cute, though.” Wade laughed and didn’t give Peter a chance to respond. He whistled the command and Shiklah unfolded her wings, tipped forward, and launched into the air.

The sensation of Peter’s stomach dropping was expected now and it didn’t bother him as much. Gaining altitude, however, was different. Shiklah beat at the air over and over again, slowly gaining height until they hit an updraft that launched them higher, the wind tugging at them. It was nerve wracking and Peter was completely focused on maintaining balance and keeping his hold steady.

It came as a surprise to notice how far up he was when he finally dared to look. Below him, he could see all of Whaytho, from the mountains to the edges of the city. The fields looked like carefully laid squares of varying colors. He couldn’t even see the people moving around them. As much as he would have liked more time to marvel at the sight, it was already drifting away.

Though Peter logically knew that flying such a great distance was quicker, it was shocking to see how much land they were covering. The rolling desert with its pops of life and textured topography was mesmerizing. It was a struggle to keep everything in view at long as he wanted to study it while also having to hug his body close to Shiklah’s whenever they banked or caught a gust of wind.

The first time they saw a flight of wild paeyo, Peter felt fear rise up in his throat. The paeyo’s calls were distant and warbling over the rush of the wind. They flew around each other in strange patterns, but never tried to fly upwards to meet Shiklah head on. Instead, they screeched their warnings and showed off their defensive moves, aggressively posturing in the air. Shiklah ignored them with bland indifference and kept flying until they were out of sight, and Peter breathed a sigh of relief.

Peter was discovering that he really did appreciate the clothes. In fact, he almost wished he was wearing something a bit warmer. It was cooler so high up, and the wind chill made it all the worse. It was slowly creeping into his skin. The only thing that kept him from from getting _too_ cold was the physical exertion needed to stay seated on the dragon.

The entire experience of flying was different than he ever could have dreamed it to be. The world was so _new_ when viewed from above. Everything below them seemed insignificant. The air around them took all of their attention — riding the currents, banking into the gusts of wind, correcting their course, keeping an eye on the distance traveled. Peter was beginning to understand why a wyvern would typically have very little regard to those that lived on the land. It was the same at Peter giving no thought to the plight of creatures that lived in the sea.

When the sun was high and the day half over, Peter realized that flying was much like most things in Kocrax: terrifying, wondrous, and eventually monotonous. It was impossible to speak over the rush of the wind and there was nothing to do other than balance his weight as the dragon shifted. It was much like long rides through the countryside on a horse, occasionally seeing something new that nature had to offer and enjoying the quiet.

Except, Peter couldn’t enjoy the quiet. Not at the moment. Not when his mind kept drifting back to Wade at every given opportunity.

That moment that Wade had pulled Peter into his arms and danced them around the room had shattered the walls Peter had been building around himself. He became aware of how warm and content he was with Wade. The rooms they occupied were no longer _Wade’s_ but _theirs._ Being around Wade and Ellie felt like family — like home.

But most of all, Wade made Peter happy.

Aunt May’s words drifted through Peter’s head. One day he would find the person that would enrich his life, make him happy, and cause him to never want to leave their side. Neither of them had expected that person to be a man, ruler in a foreign country, and the most unique person Peter had ever met. Still, everything Aunt May had described could be found in Wade.

So did that make it love?

Peter wanted to reject the idea on reflex, but he was aware that such an instinct was something instilled in him by the culture he was raised in. Had he been raised in Kocrax… Well, they likely would laugh at him for denying it for so long. Craxians had no hang ups about relationships. They loved openly and full force, flitting from one casual relationship to the other without spite or jealousy until they found the person — or people — that worked for them.

It was still sometimes hard for Peter to wrap his mind around, but he knew if he had anyone to seek out advice from, they would laugh and tell him that he was in love. They would say it as if it was obvious. Peter could picture Aleksei’s face in his mind’s eye, looking at Peter like he was being purposefully obtuse and saying, “Hasn’t it always been that way?”

Had it? Better question, was it truly okay to love a man? Rather… Was it okay to love Wade?

What happened next shouldn’t have been surprising. He had been drowning in his own thoughts for far too long, not paying attention to their surroundings, adjusting his weight on instinct. Except, his instinct and habit was learned on horseback where great gusts of wind that punched with the strength of a giant didn’t happen.

Shiklah banked into it, trying to catch the force of hard airstream with the underside of her body. But Peter had already caught the first punch of it, so when she angled into it, Peter’s distracted grip failed, and the rush of the wind sent him tumbling from his spot. He felt more than saw the tough, flexible skin of Shiklah’s wings as he rolled over them, heard her bellow in alarm, and then nothing.

The world flew around Peter in a nauseating spiral. All he could hear was wind, his own harsh breaths echoing in his skull, and the rapid beat of his heart. He closed his eyes, his sense of up or down horribly compromised, leaving him dizzy and sick. His limbs jerked around him, tousled by the force of the wind as if he was no more than a doll.

He was falling. An inevitable death that would come after a great length of time because he had started so high up. His mind raced through things he hadn’t done, things he would regret not having accomplished. He thought of all he would leave behind. For some reason, despite everything, he was left feeling oddly calm.

What he discovered that he regretted most in his bright and sudden moment of clarity… was his own fear. It stopped him from moving forward, it drowned him in his spiraling thoughts, it had led him to his demise. Most of all, it had kept him from being happy.

Happy in Kocrax. Happy with his new family. Happy being loved by Wade.

_Happy loving Wade._

Peter sucked in a breath and gritted his teeth. If he was going to live, then he needed to be an active participant. He stretched his body out and locked his limbs in place. Cupping his hands, he tried do what he was taught and kill the force of the spin. It was harder in practice than in theory. A couple of times he slowed down, only to start spinning again.

He kept at it until the world was rotating around him in a way he could actually focus on. At that point he flung his limbs wide, making an X with his body. He ran through the list of things to do in order to fall as slow as possible: tap his feet to make sure his legs were in the right position, chest angled down, head up, back arched. He took deep breaths, forcing himself to stay calm despite the now very clear sight of the ground below him.

If he were honest, it was almost a rush. Terrifying, yes, but everything in Kocrax was. Perhaps he was becoming immune to fear. That left him with just the adrenaline fueled intensity of his fall. Though, it almost felt as if he were floating, the wind just acting as a constant pressure against the front of his body. It could have been an amazing experience were it not for his impending death.

The sound of Shiklah’s roar broke through the deafening sound of the wind. That must have meant she was close if Peter could hear it so clearly. He oh so carefully pulled his arms down to stick straight out to the sides, careful not to let it send him back into a spin. He clenched his fists and locked his muscles to brace himself. Everything else he had to leave up to faith.

A looming presence swooped down over Peter, matching his pace. Wings dipped around him once, twice, and then pulled up out of sight. Giant claws wrapped around Peter’s arms. With a yank, he was being pulled forward by the force of the dragon above him. He kept his knees bent and his legs shoulder length apart and steady. He wouldn’t spin in Shiklah’s grip, but he could certainly pull his shoulder out of place by the force of his body being jerked in the wrong direction.

They continued to fall at a controlled pace until the tiny chunks of land features began to grow. It was a slow process and ultimately more taxing on Shiklah, but she succeeded in slowing down their decent and gently gliding over to a lush green butte, meaning they were between paeyo territories. She circled it quite a few times, wings beating loudly around them.

Wade’s voice shouted from above. “We’re going to drop you when we fly over next!”

Peter prepared himself and kept his knees bent, sliding across the wild weeds and brush as Shiklah flew low and then pulling his body in tight and dropping into a roll when she let go. He came to a stop and flipped over onto his back, gazing at the sky, still breathing heavy. His whole body trembled with the adrenaline still coursing through his veins, yet he was also exhausted, unable to even lift a finger to bat at the bugs flying around him that his landing had disturbed.

He watched in a kind of distant way as Shiklah flew around the butte once more and landed on the side, claws hooking into the jutting rocks and dirt to keep her steady. She threw her head back and blew out a shimmering hot breath before leaning forward to allow Wade to crawl off onto the grass. He immediately ran over and dropped to his knees, pulling a shaky Peter up into his arms in a squeeze tight enough to bruise.

Peter wrapped his arms around Wade in return, pressing his face into the side of Wade’s neck. He felt better being in Wade’s embrace, the sharp electric buzz on his skin faded to something a little less painful. Wade was shivering in bursts, but Peter was sure it wasn’t for the same reasons he was. He ran his hands up and down Wade’s back in order to soothe his husband.

 _Husband._ One death defying experience later and it no longer seemed like such a big deal to acknowledge.

Shiklah dropped her head down and sniffed at the both of them, making sure they were alright. Peter set one hand on her snout and she rumbled at him. It was nice to know she had his back, even in the worst of situations.

“I was so scared,” Wade said in a strained whisper.

Peter’s fingers tightened in Wade’s shirt. “I’m sorry…” For so much, but he was unable to vocalize it.

“You’re shaking.”

“I’m fine. It’ll stop eventually.”

Wade pulled back and looked Peter over like he expected there to be some gaping injury. The half mask still covered his face, but his eyes were red and glistening. He looked terrified. Peter felt like something stabbed him in the chest. He reached up and tugged Wade’s mask down under his chin.

“Peter—”

“Help me calm down,” Peter interrupted, pulling down his own mask.

Before Wade could say anything at all, Peter was kissing him. It wasn’t like any of the other kisses that Peter had been encouraged to initiate. No, this one was primal, desperate, and full of everything Peter couldn’t find the words to say. He crawled into Wade’s lap and relished in the feel of hands moving across his body.

Shiklah’s long neck curled around them, blocking them from view and keeping an eye on their surroundings. She was giving them the time they needed. Peter was only distantly aware of it. His focus was on Wade and the pent up emotions that were finally breaking free of their prison.

Wade pawed at their clothing and somehow managed to successfully pull out their cocks. Peter found himself hard already, an after effect of the experience. He thrust into Wade’s hand and the man moaned in response. Peter was rarely so aggressive in their trysts. It must have been a dream come true for Wade.

One of Wade’s large hands pressed their cocks together and started stroking at a desperate pace. Unprecedented, Peter wrapped his hand around them, too. Wade shivered and Peter could feel the hot precum already slicking up their palms. The littlest of things pleased Wade so much. Peter’s chest clenched at the knowledge.

They rocked their hips into their wound hands, both their free hands stroking along each other’s bodies. Their mouths devoured each other or sucking marks against skin while they caught their breath. It was fast and frantic, sweat beading down their spine, the heat of summer clinging to their skin, the hum of insects surrounding them, the loud breaths of a dragon a cadence in the background.

A year ago Peter couldn’t have imagined anything like it in his life. He would have denied that he’d ever be comfortable with it, happy in such a world, or able to care for a man he was forced to marry. Peter had clung so hard to that version of himself. And why? Just to end up miserable in a life he could finally be happy in? Just because he was _used_ to being miserable. Just because he was listening to the words of people he hated about what was the proper way to find love, family, and happiness.

Peter tilted his head back and sucked in a breath, his orgasm rising hard and fast. Wade’s teeth were gritted and his face was screwed up in concentration like he was trying hard not to blow too soon. When Peter reached climax, he heard Wade’s grunt of relief. Their hands slowed, covered in seed and sweat now.

Suddenly feeling boneless and tired, Peter drooped forward, melting against Wade and nuzzling into the man’s chest. Wade’s free arm clung to Peter’s back, his lips leaving soft little kisses into Peter’s hair. For a time, they just stayed pressed against each other, enjoying the calm after everything that had happened.

“I shouldn’t have suggested flying,” Wade breathed, sounding devastated.

Peter shook his head. “I got distracted. It’s my fault.”

“But…”

He pulled back and gave Wade a stern look. “Everything went exactly how it was supposed to go. I knew what to do and you grabbed me. That was thanks to all of your training.”

“Why are _you_ being the reasonable one right now?” Wade sounded like a pouting child. It almost made Peter smile.

“One of us has to be.”

Wade saw to cleaning them up and getting them sorted once more. Peter didn’t tremble when he stood up. In fact, he felt a lot calmer if not a bit tired. It sounded silly to say, but he felt like he had a lot more clarity now. Not that he appreciated needing a near death experience to stop his constant internal panic… He should probably work on that character flaw.

Shiklah nudged Peter and he ran his hands over her snout, praising her for doing such a good job. Wade watched them with a look of far too many mixed emotions. Peter knew he should say something but his mind wasn’t working all that well. He couldn’t think of the right words. He looked up at the sun, judging their time. They still had a few more hours before they needed to be at the rendezvous point.

“We should get back in the air,” Peter said.

“Are you sure?”

Peter sighed. “We’re in the middle of nowhere, Wade. We don’t have much of a choice.” He walked over and dropped a kiss on Wade’s cheek, much to the man’s surprise. “It’s fine. I’ll be more careful.”

Wade looked like he was trying to say too many things at once and nothing was coming out. He finally just collapsed onto Peter and hugged them close together. “Alright…”

It was nearing dusk by the time they arrived and Shiklah was worn out after the extra exertion of catching Peter during the flight. She didn’t linger once they had been dropped off and immediately left to find food and a safe place to sleep for the night. The caravan was sprawled over the dry grasses that marked the border of Kocrax and transitioned into Q’otha. A few more days and they’d be at the markets.

A tent had been set up for Peter and Wade, the pair falling asleep almost instantly after their evening meal shared with the rest of the caravan. Despite the heat, Peter didn’t so much mind being wrapped up in Wade’s arms. After the long day, he slept dreamlessly.

In the morning, they shared breakfast around the cookfire. Peter was getting to know some of those in the caravan. A handful Peter knew from the troop. They claimed to prefer travel to the bustling noise of the city. Sergei was one such person and was more than happy to introduce Peter to the others.

That was going fine until Sergei grabbed Peter’s butt. Peter handled it just fine. He grabbed Sergei’s hand and bent it at an unnatural angle, sending Sergei to his knees with a wheeze of laughter to cover up his whine of pain. Everyone laughed at the spectacle. That made Wade’s overreaction all the more baffling.

Wade came out of nowhere with the intent to kill. It took three men to drag him off of Sergei who had managed to fight off the worst of Wade’s lethal attacks. A couple of men pushed Sergei back when it looked like he was about to go after Wade. The karusson bellowed, getting antsy after such a violent display.

Peter marched over to Wade, took hold of his collar, and stomped off. Everyone cleared a path, allowing Peter to bring them someplace quiet. Wade was sullen and moody, a drop of blood trailing down his chin. Once they were far enough away to not be overheard, Peter whirled around, showing the full force of his anger.

“What the fuck was that?”

“But he—”

“So fucking what? You had to just swoop in and save me like I can’t handle things on my own?”

“It’s not about that!” Wade snapped.

“Then pray tell what _was_ it about?”

“It’s not just Sergei! It’s all of them. They’re all gonna be acting like, like—” Wade failed his hands, searching for the right words. “You’re going to be in the middle of all the people just like you. You’ll remember what it’s like. You’ll have a hundred different opportunities to go back to that life and the money to do it. You…”

Wade paced off a few steps, running his hands over his face and looking defeated. “ _Our_ culture is going to be the outsiders when you get to the markets. You won’t have to feel like you’re forcing yourself to fit into our way of life anymore.”

Peter walked over to be in Wade’s line of sight again. “Listen—”

“No! I remember the look on your face when we were in Floa Bral. You _hated_ us. You’re gonna remember why!”

“You’re right.” Peter kept his chin up and shoulders back, keeping a confident posture to make sure Wade heard and paid attention to his words. “I did feel like that back then. It was ignorant and shameful of me. I’m not that person anymore.”

“You say that _now_ but—”

“Wade!” Peter snapped. “I’m not leaving.”

There was a world of fear and pain in Wade’s eyes when he looked at Peter. “Why not?”

Peter’s silence was the entire reason this was happening. If he hadn’t been so stubborn about his own feelings, Wade wouldn’t be so convinced of Peter leaving. More than that, if he had been able to say something after this death defying experience, then maybe Wade wouldn’t be jumping to conclusions.

It was true, months ago Peter _would_ have taken the opportunity to run, especially after almost dying. But so much had changed. _He_ had changed. It wasn’t Wade’s fault for not seeing it when Peter was still hiding from that himself.

“My home is located in the desert, backed by mountains, with a river flowing to the east. It is filled with millions of people, all loud, brash, and loving. My home is a strong willed daughter named Eleanor and a doting husband named Wade. I have a job to do at the markets, but the only place I ever want to be is _home_.”

Wade sniffled, loud and gross sounding as his eyes filled up with tears. Peter sighed and stepped forward to hold Wade’s face between his hands. “I expect to see you back here to pick me up when I’m finished.”

Wade nodded, his lower lip trembling.

“Do you want me to pick you up something pretty at the market?”

Wade nodded again and then folded into Peter, clinging like a man drowning. Peter shushed Wade and rubbed is hands up and down the large man’s back. It still seemed out of character for Wade to act in such a way, but Peter found it bothered him less these days. He appreciated knowing what Wade was feeling rather than having to guess at some ulterior motive.

They stayed locked together for a while, Wade soaking in Peter’s warmth and smell as long as he could. When they kissed, it was long and dirty, earning them a few whistles from those that could see them. Wade managed to pull himself together long enough to double check that everything was prepared and that Peter had the necessary papers he needed.

Peter was given a horse and headed out with the rest of the party. Wade stood back and watched them go until they were out of sight, as if he couldn’t bring himself to leave until they were. Peter knew that because he kept sneaking glances over his shoulder to look.

Some of the others ribbed Peter for it, but ultimately seemed to find it endearing. Everyone loved to see a happy family. Well, Peter couldn’t blame them. He loved _being_ in a happy family.

And he was already missing home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The larger the bird, the faster they can fly. Ducks can fly upwards of 50 mph. Obviously, speed can be hindered by the elements and whether wind is on your side. Flying is a lot of catching a draft up, stabilizing, and then falling forward at a controlled speed. Airplanes mimic this. A full dive can hit terminal velocity, which for an average speed skydiver (arms/legs in tight and head pointed down) is 330 mph. With a dragon being bigger than that, but also lighter in bone structure, we can assume a wyvern’s full dive could get faster than that by _at least_ 100 mph. As for average flying speeds, anywhere between 150-200 mph would be reasonable, probably 40 mph on the lower end in order to stay in the air without an updraft.
> 
> With this in mind, covering 2000+ miles in about 10-12 hours is doable. Also, Shiklah’s faster speed would allow her to catch up to and compensate for Peter’s speed in a freefall. Not to mention, proper skydiving posture should leave you falling at 40 mph.
> 
> I have done the math! \o/ If anyone would like to translate this into kph, I’ll add that in. XD
> 
> Sorry I tried to kill Peter, guys. He needed a turning point, tho. lol I've been dreaming of that scene for a while now and how I wanted it to go. I hope it was exciting to read. XD I did a lot of sky diving research, as I'm sure was obvious. Because of course I over researched for a single scene. That's who I am at this point. @.@


	22. The Markets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Information key:**  
>  Droana: _Capital of Floa Bral_  
>  Q’otha: _sovereign nation between Kocrax and Floa Bral, contains biggest port city, major trading hub_  
>  Cethad: _Large country to the north of Q’otha._  
>  Gella: _Dragon dung and vegetation formed into a hard brick and used as a burning fuel source. It burns brighter, hotter, and longer than any other current useable fuel source in any known country._

Peter handed the completed paperwork to the steward overseeing the marketplace. He fiddled with the sleeves of his shirt yet again, surprised at how tight his Brals clothing had become since he stopped wearing it. It never really occurred to him how much muscle he was putting on given his new lifestyle. Still, it was important to dress as the lord he was while securing a place in the market.

The steward who had been previously overly polite and helpful towards Peter now frowned at the paperwork. “It says here that your employees and goods are all…”

“Craxian, yes.”

The steward cleared his throat. “Kocrax does not have authority to—”

“But _I_ have the legal right to set up at market, as my paperwork shows.”

“And how have you come into… possession of such goods and workers?”

“Marriage.”

Peter left it at that, having no desire to discuss the details of such to someone already prejudiced against Craxians. He had already spent most of the morning arguing why it was best for him to see the steward alone. Wade had assigned Peter bodyguards on threat of death if they let Peter out of their sight. It took a lot of convincing that Peter would make sure they would live. Sergei hadn’t even been tasked with keeping an eye on Peter but had still argued that Peter should have constant protection.

Though Peter understood his position in leadership and why his safety was so important, it had grated on him that he was being treated so carefully. It gave him a new appreciation for those in royalty that were unable to go anywhere without a contingent of guards always in their presence.

The steward awkwardly arranged the papers on his desk. “If you wish to bring such… _people_ into the city, you will be held fully responsible for any laws they break, items they steal, and property they damage.”

Peter gritted his teeth at the implications and gave a tight smile. “I understand.”

“And I would remind you that dragons are illegal past the border.”

“We have only brought horses, sir.” The dragons were set up in a camp directly at the border along with a decent surplus of the larger items they’d brought for trade. The horses could carry in what they needed whenever a restock was necessary.

With great reluctance, the steward approved Peter’s request. There wasn’t much he could do otherwise, not legally. Peter had come in prepared and shut that argument down before it even began. A scroll was written up, approving a space for setup with two months of allotted time and the rules of market. Peter wasn’t at all hopeful of getting a prime traffic spot, but simply being at the markets at all was a big deal.

The steward handed over the scroll with a sour look on his face and requested the tax for their stay. He counted and tested every single coin in the purse. Peter bit his tongue on any remarks to that and just focused on making sure there was nothing underhanded in the documentation.

“Please remember that this is a market of _civilized_ people. We expect all to act accordingly.”

Peter gave a short bow in return, his smile tight and painful on his face. It took everything he had not to mention the taverns full of loud, drunken sailors that lined the city. “Of course, sir.” Without waiting a moment longer, Peter spun around and marched out.

He hadn’t made it very far into the busy, dusty streets before three figures in tan cloaks descended on him, following at a not so subtle distance. Peter sighed and turned to face his three sheepish pursuers. “You blend in no better in cloaks. You just look like a bunch of thieves who don’t know what they’re doing.”

“We were watching your back!” Sergei said, like a child defending his reasons for breaking the rules.

Peter rolled his eyes and let it go. At least they hadn’t been approached by guards or seen by the steward. He shook the scroll at them. “Let’s go assess our spot.”

“Ah! The Haggler does it again!” Sergei boomed with a wide grin. Peter’s other bodyguards cheered as well.

Unsurprisingly, their allotted spot was at the very edge of the markets, far away from anything useful and nowhere near appropriately located with the vendors who sold the same type of items as Peter had submitted to the steward. Sergei looked ready to march back to the office and throttle the worker, but that would only get them thrown out, and he said as much. No, they would just have to make the best of it.

It took them only a day to set up, but people gave them all a wide berth, not wanting to even peek at the wares being sold. By the end of the third day, only one ship’s captain had been brave enough to seek them out and purchase a decent sized pallet of gella. Everyone was feeling a bit defeated.

However, Peter had come up with a few ideas. “It would be an investment, but I think it would work.”

“Of all of us, you’re the expert on foreign affairs,” [Manuel](http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Manuel_Eloganto_\(Earth-616\)) said. He was one of the least intimidating Craxians of the group who also spoke common tongue, so Peter had put him up front with him for sales. “I trust your advice.”

Peter looked to Sergei. “You’ll have to change your outfit.”

Sergei boomed a laugh. “I look forward to telling your husband how you saw me out of my clothes!”

Peter sighed and shook his head at that. Grabbing their funds from the gella sales, he stood up, ready to head into the markets proper. “Don’t do anything rash while I’m gone.”

 

~*~

 

Manuel flapped his arms and frowned at the gauze that fluttered around him. “I feel like I should be performing some dance.”

“Well, you _are_ performing,” Peter clarified as he fixed the elaborately decorated hood on another person.

Their little shop had been completely draped in jewel tone silks and filmy gauze. The cheapest strings of baubles Peter could find were strung around haphazardly, sparkling in the sunlight. They likely wouldn’t last long before they tarnished, but they only needed to make it a month or so. Some of the larger dragon statues sat on either end of their space like guardians. A few smaller statues had incense cups balances in their claws. The thick scent of musk and spices filled their air, though the fragrances had nothing to do with Kocrax.

“Look!” Sergei boomed with pride. He had lit a small piece of gella inside of a dragon statue’s mouth, causing it to glow and wisps of smoke to pour between its teeth. “How is that?”

“I like it!” Peter agreed. “Smoke between the teeth is a great idea. I wonder if we can stuff more incense in the big ones’ mouths.”

Manuel grabbed a lump of cheap wire bracelets and shoved them onto his wrists. “I don’t see how making this much noise could be considered at all safe in Kocrax.” He shook his wrist to make them jingle to prove his point.

“It’s not about the reality of Kocrax,” Peter said. “It’s about playing to the fantasy people want.” Peter picked up a tambourine and shook it. “You don’t _bond_ with dragons, you _hypnotize_ them with music.”

Manuel let it show how dumb he found that, but Sergei boomed with laughter at the thought of it. “We sing them down from the heavens and dance them into submission!”

“And who would possibly believe that?” Manuel argued.

“You’d be surprised what people will believe about dragons,” Peter said as he adjusted the flowing silks of his own outfit.

He had purposefully chosen dark fabrics that would look mysterious. The reds were the color of blood, giving a darker air to the scene. The point was to be scary but approachable. Just enough to give people a thrill but not enough to run them off. The benefit to their scheme was that nobody knew much about Kocrax. Anything that the Craxians claimed to be true wouldn’t be disputed.

There were a few street orphans across the road that were watching them with great amusement. They’d been there the previous day and were likely wise enough to know exactly what Peter was attempting. Everyone else in the city studiously ignored the street urchins, so it was hardly a concern if they figured it out.

“Do you remember how to talk?” Peter asked.

Manuel sighed. “Just loud enough to be heard, pitch my voice low, and… sing?”

“Melodic,” Peter corrected. “Let your voice flow like you do when singing, but don’t actually sing.”

A few of the men practiced that, but they weren’t very good at it. Not that it really mattered since it made them sound all the more foreign but less overwhelmingly robust. They couldn’t afford to only be able to trade with grizzled and fearless ship captains. They needed the average person as well who was willing to buy a trinket or two.

Peter grabbed a copper coin and held it up as he turned to make eye contact with the urchins across the street. They stared each other down for a long while before one decided he was brave enough to run over. Peter crouched down to the kid’s level as everyone watched to see what it was Peter had planned.

“A copper to run through the market streets and tell everyone about the dragons you saw. Another copper for every five people you lead to our booth.”

The kid eyed Peter suspiciously, not at all trusting the word of a well off adult. Still, the kid knew better than to pass up money and snatched the copper before running off and melting into the crowds. Peter stood and watched as the other urchins vanished. It was gamble to see if they even did anything, but so was just about everything else he’d done so far.

“He looked like a stray,” Sergei sneered and spat on the ground as if the word tasted bad in his mouth.

“He was,” Peter agreed. “It is easy to become a stray in these nations. His parents likely abandoned him.”

“Why would they do that?” It seemed the concept of walking away from family was not one Sergei was familiar with. Well, any opportunity Peter had to help end the stigma of strays, he would take.

“Marriage is between one man and one woman. If a child is born out of wedlock, the father will not claim them and the mother will either die, work too much to care for the child, or be forced to abandon them in favor of a servants position in a household.”

Sergei scoffed. “That is no curse of the gods! That is a curse of the father!”

Peter shrugged. “When my government sent no soldiers to protect my lands and my family was killed, I was informed that it was a punishment of the gods despite how pious my family was.”

Someone elbowed Sergei in the ribs hard enough to send the man stumbling. Sergei didn’t even get mad about it, he just stopped talking. People were oddly defensive of Peter and his past in Floa Bral. Perhaps that was just a benefit of being the Great Wife.

The day started slow, but Peter hadn’t expected an immediate change. There were a few more people straying closer to glimpse the rumored Craxian booth. At noon, a group of exactly five people wandered over to view the goods. Only two of them were brave enough to even speak. The other three kept trying to look at everything at once.

Peter slid one of the spiraling dragon trinkets across the silk-draped table towards them. “Are you interested in… _dragons_.” He felt like the cheesiest actor in a street corner play, but their customers seemed to be eating it up.

“Is this really what a dragon looks like?” One of the men asked as a young woman behind him clutched his shirt and peeked over his shoulder.

“One of them,” Peter confirmed. “There are many in the lands beyond the deserts.” He pulled out a leather thing and looped it through one of the open spaces on the trinket. “This can be worn as a symbol of protection. No man would dare approach a woman protected by a dragon. They would know how fierce her man must be to have acquired such a piece.”

The eyes of the couple lit up with interest and in the end, the necklace was sold. Two of the others purchased tiny dragon trinkets to keep in their pockets to ward off thieves. Once the group left, the street urchin appeared out of nowhere, arms crossed, and stared Peter down.

“Was that a test?” Peter asked. He pulled out another copper and tossed it to the kid who whipped it out of the air as fast as a snake.

“‘M not stupid,” the kid muttered and then ran off again, vanishing in an instant.

Sergei laughed. “The kid’s got an eye for business.”

And so it went, with people trickling in at a slow but steadily increasing pace. Between the smell of incense, the sound of music, the array of eye catching colors, and the kids talking loudly about the dragons in the streets, their booth was no longer hard to find. The sellers got a bit better each time at acting their part and playing up the drama. Sergei went between appropriately intimidating looking to singing for those seemingly too terrified to approach. Sergei made many a joke about how singing really did hypnotize and no wonder they believed such tripe.

By nightfall, the street urchins had made a decent amount of money and everyone in the booth was in better spirits, hopeful at last about their ability to sell in the markets. To Peter’s shock, Sergei offered food to the urchins who helped and they accepted it greedily. That easily made them allies in their trade. Peter would likely need to sit down and renegotiate terms with them for the time that they were at market.

He grinned as he took a bowl of food and sat with the others in front of the small tent set up behind the booth. One way or another, they’d find a way to make their profit.

 

~*~

 

Two weeks in and everyone was so comfortable in their acting roles that they started to push things, just to see how ridiculous they could get. It became a competition to see who could get the others to crack up first. Peter struggled to keep them under control, but also to not be the first to laugh at some of the more outrageous dance routines they were teaching excitable young men.

Overall, the gamble had paid off. The Craxian booth became the talk of the town — the talk of many towns. People were traveling into the city just to see them. The casual buyer would purchase a trinket, a statue, or a dragon horn. The more serious buyers were purchasing large pallets of gella and limestone, eyes shining with the small fortune they would make during resale.

Occasionally Peter stocked up on incense from other booths and resold them at twice the price as “traditional fills for the dragon burners” that were for sale. He only felt a little bad about it. Everyone else seemed to think he was some kind of marketing genius.

The spices were harder to sell but they lucked out with a group seeking to impress at an upcoming royal event in their country. They purchased barrels of spices in order for the cooks to experiment with so that foreign dignitaries would be astounded at the unique food. Peter wrote down a few quick recipes for curry that his companions offered, along with some hefty warnings about how tough the Craxian pallet was.

The street urchin that Peter had made the deal with that first day ended up becoming a constant in their group. His name was [Daken](http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Akihiro_\(Earth-616\)) and his mother had worked in a whore house before she died. He was fairly sure that his father was a sailor, but there was no way to tell. Sergei ended up oddly attached to the kid.

Peter was glad that Sergei was able to overcome some of his own prejudices, but at the same time, Peter worried about the kid. Eventually, the Craxians would leave and Daken would find himself alone yet again with only the other orphans to keep him company. Peter hoped that both Sergei and Daken kept that in mind.

By the third week, they managed to get a decent order for limestone, far too big to bring into the city. Peter agreed to travel with the group to the border to pick up the entire purchase and help facilitate loading up the correct amount in order to transport it to the local harbor. It took most of the day and drew a lot of attention, which Peter found to be a good thing.

At least, until his past came back to haunt him.

Though he knew the possibility of seeing someone from his life in Floa Bral was unlikely, it made him fret about it no less. Those first three weeks had helped Peter to relax, but inevitably, word got around. It was no chance meeting. The person had purposefully sought Peter out.

The last load of limestone sheets had been sent off and Peter and the sellers had parted ways. Peter and the four others he was with, including his not so subtle bodyguards, had all decided to take a break and get food and drink from a street vendor. They sat near the outskirts of the city, enjoying their meal and chatting, making the occasional joke about their acting attire.

“Do my eyes deceive me? Is that Puny Parker?”

The words were like a bucket of icy water dumped on Peter’s head. He looked up to find none other than Lord Kasady walking up, flanked by two men that were armed and trying to look intimidating. Peter stood up slowly and the people around him followed suit.

“I was sent to check out the rumor of ruffians invading the city and this is what I find — the Craxian whore.”

The men around Lord Kasady laughed. Peter was grateful that Bralish was being spoken so that the others didn’t catch what was being said. They still understood animosity when they saw it, however, and were fanning out behind Peter, waiting for a fight.

“Sent here?” Peter asked. “You must have truly lost Duke Thompson’s favor if you’ve been cast off to serve a stint as a guard in Q’otha.”

Lord Kasady scowled, not at all pleased that Peter wasn’t holding his tongue. The old Peter would have. Things most certainly had changed since their last meeting. Lord Kasady scrunched his nose with distaste. “I see you’ve had savage ways fucked into you.”

It was a bit odd to realize how ineffectual the insults were. It wasn’t like Peter’s position was some unknown thing. Likely, he’d been the height of rumors and distasteful jokes for months after being forced to marry Wade. It didn’t matter. Peter wasn’t returning to the Brals court ever again.

“I see you’re still insufferable. Perhaps you should work on that so you don’t get assigned to such shit posts.” Peter smiled.

Lord Kasady grit his teeth and balled up his fists, leaning forward as if it made him more intimidating. Peter had faced down dragons. Lord Kasady was hardly a concern. “I am here on behalf of my family! Unlike the defunct _Parkers_ , we have actual goods to trade!”

“Then perhaps you should not butt your nose into the business of the guards trying to keep the peace. We are doing nothing but facilitating a sale and eating. Does our chewing seem like such a threat to you? If it bothers you so, it would be better to report it to a guard that can better placate you than I.”

“Who the hell do you think you are?” Lord Kasady took a step forward and both his lackies and Peter’s entourage fell into a position that said they were ready for a fight. “You are nobody and nothing! You’re not even a lord anymore! You should know your place!”

“I could say the same to you. I am married to a chief. I outrank you.” Peter stuck his nose in the air, looking down on Lord Kasady with all the disdain he’d ever held for the man.

“That barbarian holds no title! He’s a worthless savage that claims to rule a pile of sand, and you are nothing more than a hole for him to stick his cock in.”

They were both trading words that would never have been spoken in polite company. That in and of itself should have been enough for Peter, knowing that Lord Kasady was so provoked that his well mannered breeding fell away. It almost was right up until the insult to Wade. After all Wade had done to try and save his people, even after losing everything, even though he had no idea how to rule… Well, Peter snapped.

Or rather, Lord Kasady’s nose snapped when Peter’s fist connected with it. It was an all out brawl in a matter of seconds. Two Craxians to each of Lord Kasady’s men was an unfair fight and effectively left their master on his own with Peter. Maybe they thought it wouldn’t be a big deal. Peter was small and not known for his strength, only his speed in duels.

But that was the old Peter. New Peter was covered in growing muscle, trained in close hand combat, and no longer had to worry about the politics of the Brals court. It felt good in a way that Peter knew was wrong every time his fist, elbow, knee, or foot connected with Lord Kasady’s flesh. Efficiently dodging each attach and punching blood and bruises into that posh skin sent a thrill through Peter like little else ever had.

His vision was tunneled to the look of fear, pain, and confusion on Lord Kasady’s face and all he represented about the life Peter had hated in Droana’s palace. His ears rang and his blood pumped hard, deafening him to most everything but the shouts of the man under him and bone jarring thud of flesh connecting to flesh. Peter was sure he looked like a bloodthirsty savage in that moment. There was something satisfying about that.

Large hands drug Peter off of a limp and moaning Lord Kasady. Peter fought the arms off until he was able to see his companions around him. The were dragging him away, breaking out in a full run. Peter followed and his hearing came back slowly, letting him know they were fleeing from the actual guard before they could get caught.

A hysterical bubble of laughter built in his chest and split his face into a wide grin. He could taste blood in his mouth. He didn’t even remember getting hit, the pain wasn’t registering yet. He could care less if it did. The men around Peter turned to grin as well as they all sprinted back to their outpost near the border.

Getting so excited about giving Lord Kasady what he deserved was unbecoming of a Brals nobleman, but it was expected for a citizen of Kocrax.

 

~*~

 

As nothing about the fight could be proven and the Craxians seemingly were still at their booth far away or camped out across the border, nothing came of the guards being called. Whether Lord Kasady made a fuss about it or not did nothing to affect business. If anything, business got better.

They had finally hit the point of being able to buy food stock in bulk. Peter discovered that bringing along the largest Craxians during the haggling process got him a better deal. It was fortunate that he knew what the projected market values had been predicted as for the current season. Next year he wouldn’t be so lucky. That was yet another thing Peter would be relying on Harry for.

All letters and shipments had been sent out that first day they arrived in the city. None of it would reach Harry in time to receive a reply. Peter could only hope for the best. A large part of him was terrified of seeing Harry again. Surely Harry would notice the change in Peter. Despite their long friendship, would Harry reject the person Peter was becoming? He couldn’t say for sure and that scared him.

Of course, that led him to thinking about his current life. Truly, he needed to start making more friends. It wasn’t as if the people around him were rejecting him. Surely he could spend more time with _some_ of them now that he was more comfortable with his life in Kocrax. It was something to think about.

The last week at market had Peter running around making deals with people to get rid of the last of the limestone. It would be less cost effective to haul it back than it would to find a buyer willing to trade for an odd assortment of goods. Between that and managing the last week of sales, it kept Peter extremely busy.

That was a good thing. It had struck Peter one night that he was feeling homesick. He missed Ellie, Bea, Shiklah, and even his new duties on the council. Most of all, he missed Wade. Peter hadn’t realized how much Wade had been aware of Peter’s moods. Whenever Peter needed a break, or forgot to eat, or required an outlet for stress, or could just do with a bit of attention, Wade was there.

Peter missed the bad jokes and Wade’s full force grin. He missed the sense of family and the feelings of affection. And if he were truly honest with himself, he missed the intimacy — the stolen moments and vigorous nights. Peter missed the look in Wade’s eyes when they kissed.

It seemed Peter was not so good at hiding his feelings on the matter. The others caught on and teased Peter for it, but in a good natured way. They also seemed to find it cute that Peter turned down any offers for a temporary bed partner. They called Peter’s monogamous inclinations “bonding sickness” and informed him that it would fade eventually. Peter still had a hard time wrapping his head around Craxian relationship values at times.

When they at last broke down the booth, all of the impromptu decorations were stored carefully so that they could be used in upcoming years. Peter already had some ideas to expand upon the theme and make themselves more noticeable. He had also made some contacts with those interested in bulk purchases for the following summer. Things had gone fairly well for their first year at market, despite the setbacks at the beginning. Rumors should help spread the knowledge that Craxians were trading and bring in more customers in the following years.

They had managed to stock up on quite a lot. Definitely not enough to fix the food crisis overnight, but enough to help lessen the strain. On their way out of the city, Peter stopped at the docks and traded some leftover items for a decent amount of well preserved seafood. Peter would have to teach the caravan how to cook with it, but it should help diversify the meal options during their long trip back.

Peter was tired as they traveled out into the empty lands that led to the border. Everyone was a bit done in after constantly watching their every move in order to sell the _idea_ of Craxian life. A few of the men picked up some songs about food that had others complaining about suddenly being hungry. All of it helped to distract Peter from something rather important.

That was, Sergei was unusually quiet. Even at dinner, he only talked when spoken to and in an overly loud manner. He retired to his tent early with his second helping of food as if he couldn’t handle being around the others any longer. Peter wondered if the man was feeling alright. Perhaps Sergei was worried about the orphans left behind that they’d all become attached to. Everyone had been a bit melancholy in saying farewell to the kids.

It wasn’t until the next morning that Sergei’s odd behavior started to look suspicious. Peter kept his distance as he watched Sergei keep an eye out for others before sneaking over to a cart. Was Sergei honestly trying to steal something? Peter stayed light on his feet, by far the quietest person in camp, and tip toed his way over to catch Sergei in the act.

That was when Peter saw it. “Absolutely not!” Peter snapped as he popped from his hiding place and stormed over.

Sergei jumped, looked guilty, and then immediately went defensive. “That’s not for you to decide!”

Peter walked towards the cart and Sergei tried to stand in the way. Peter was faster and darted out of Sergei’s reach easily before doubling back to the cart and throwing off the tarp. There, curled up on a bag of rice, was Daken.

“You can’t kidnap children!” Peter glared at Sergei.

“I do not! He chose!”

Daken sat up with a sigh and frowned at Peter in a dejected way. He spoke only common tongue so he likely hadn’t been keeping up with the conversation, but the intent was clear. “What difference does it make?” Daken asked. “I’m an orphan. Nobody would even notice.”

“A lot of reasons,” Peter said, but not without sympathy. “Craxians are barely even welcome at market. If rumor spreads that we’re taking kids back with us, orphaned or not, it could ruin our chances for future trade.”

Daken picked at his nails and shrugged. “I told everybody that I was hired to mop the decks on a ship. That’s all they’ll be sayin’.”

“He’s a strong kid!” Sergei argued. “Touched by Arev. I can see it. He’s not meant to be a stray!”

Peter sighed. Of course that would be Sergei’s argument. Peter wasn’t a fan of how Sergei upheld his dislike of strays by saying that Daken wasn’t cursed, but just born in the wrong country. Of course, the problem with the whole situation _was_ that Daken had been born in Q’otha. He had no idea what lied ahead in Kocrax.

Sitting down on the edge of the cart, Peter turned so that he was eye level with Daken. “Listen, this isn’t just about the politics at stake, though that _is_ a concern. This is about you. Kocrax is a very different world with different values. The idea of dragons may seem amazing now, but the reality is that the path back will be dangerous. You’ll be surrounded by people who aren’t like you, that don’t speak your language, and will expect you to be like them.”

Daken shrugged. “I grew up in a whore house, I’ve eaten half dead rats because I was that hungry, and I’ve been beat for the fun of bored soldiers. I figure if a dragon eats me, it’s a better way to go. At least I’ll have a full belly and place to sleep until then.”

It was hard to argue that logic. “If you regret this, you can’t go back. We can’t let it be known that we took a child of Q’otha, who is under the protection of Floa Bral, and raised him in Kocrax. If you cross that border, you’re there for life. I don’t want to bind you like that, but I will do what I must to protect my country.”

“Either I die trapped in Q’otha or I die trapped in Kocrax. I like the options leading up to my death better with him.” Daken tilted his head at Sergei.

Peter pursed his lips as he considered it. Daken had been through a hard life. Though Kocrax was not an easy world to live in, it was likely far better than anything Daken had experience living in the streets of a trade city where so many crimes went unpunished because the perpetrator could leave town on a whim. Peter didn’t even want to consider the circumstances that had led to Daken’s dark outlook on life.

“So be it,” Peter said at last.

A shrill whistle caught all of their attentions. One of the lookouts shouted over the sudden quiet of camp. “Riders coming in fast!”

Peter, Sergei, and Daken all cursed. “Hide!” Peter commanded as he hopped up and ran for the edge of camp.

There were two riders pushing hard to catch up to the caravan that hadn’t yet made it across the border. Peter wasn’t sure if he was or wasn’t glad that the dragons were not with them at the moment. Peter and a group of their biggest brawlers walked further away from camp to meet whoever was coming after them. Everyone was tense, ready to draw their weapons at a moment’s notice.

However, the closer the riders came, the more it became clear that it wasn’t guards chasing them down. A black banner with a white eagle hung from the flank of the horses. Peter’s jaw dropped.

“You recognize them?” someone asked.

“That’s Cethad’s banner,” Peter answered, still a little stunned.

The two riders slowed as they came close, announcing that they were in fact messengers from Cethad. Everyone relaxed some, but still stayed ready, unsure of what to think. One of the riders dismounted and approached them, a letter in hand.

“Well met! I am Sir [Barton](http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Clinton_Barton_\(Earth-616\)), official messenger from Cethad.” He held up the letter. “I was tasked with carrying our king’s reply to you before you left the markets.”

“Well met. I am Peter Wilson, speaker for the chief of Swujan.”

One of Peter’s guards stepped forward to take the letter, breaking the seal and checking it over before handing it to Peter. Sir Barton frowned at that, but Peter knew that nobody could read what was written but him. He scanned over letter, heart beating wildly. It was agreeing to their opening letter asking for a meeting to discuss trade. The king himself was requesting a reply as soon as possible to set up the time and place.

“How long are you in port?” Peter asked.

“Not long. I have our schedule for the next times that we will be docked to help facilitate this as quickly as we can.”

Yes, time was of the essence for two countries in dire need of trading options. It would take too long for Peter to return with the letter, argue with the council, and then send a reply. Cethad had made their move, showing that they understood the urgency and were ready to make a deal before any other countries caught wind of the plan. If Kocrax did not respond in kind, it wouldn’t put them at a disadvantage in trade.

Cethad assumed that Kocrax was secretly capable of handling their affairs and would have discussed a reply to whatever offer Cethad sent. Kocrax _should_ have been prepared with a reply, but they were a country with little knowledge of negotiation and only Peter as their consult. That wasn’t something other countries needed to know, however. It would make it too obvious that Kocrax could be taken advantage of.

“Are you going to reply?” Manuel asked in low Craxan from somewhere behind Peter. Even if Sir Barton was studying the language, Peter knew from personal experience that hearing it spoken was a whole other matter. They were safe to talk freely amongst themselves, even with the messengers in earshot.

“I should discuss it with Chief Wilson…” Or rather, the council that nobody else knew existed, as much of a hassle as it would be.

“You are bonded to the chief. He speaks through you as you speak through him. Your authority is absolute.”

Everyone murmured their agreements and that just made it all the more complicated. Peter’s indecision wouldn’t be left only on his shoulders, but Wade’s as well. Peter took a deep breath and looked at the person next to him. “Fetch me parchment and a quill.”

For better or worse, Peter was sending a reply to a king on behalf of nation on his own, with no time to fret over how it was worded and no ability to verify there were no conflicts in his decisions. Peter could only pray that he was doing the right thing.

 

~*~

 

Harry entered his manor weary and covered in dust from travel. The summer always kept him busy and he rarely spent much time at home. When he did manage to make it back, it meant going through non-stop paperwork and writing letters until hand cramped. The curse of having a business that thrived, as it were.

Before he could even rid himself of his traveling cloak and shuck the dirt caked boots, his butler was upon him. “Welcome home, sir. You have some shipments in the storehouse.”

“I always have shipments in the storehouse. We’re a trading business.” Harry really just wanted something to eat and possibly a nap—

“It is from Kocrax, sir.”

Harry froze and turned wide eyes to the man. “What?”

“Multiple crates were sent to your care.”

“Well take me to them!”

They hurried to the storehouse and Harry was buzzing with anticipation. He’d been devastated to find out what had happened to Peter and still occasionally had nightmares of his best friend being eaten by giant green dragons. Harry hadn’t expected to hear anything from Peter ever again, never knowing if he was alive or dead. To get a shipment from Kocrax… Harry’s mind spun with all manner of happy or terrifying ideas of what it could be.

It turned out that the large stone crates held not one of the thousands of ideas that Harry had contemplated. His butler managed to contain any thoughts he had on the matter behind a professionally bland face. “There were directions not to tamper with the contents, but so far as we can tell, they are all filled with soil.”

“Soil…” Harry repeated in bafflement.

“Dirt, sir. All of them.” The butler walked over to a small stone box filled with sand. “Except for this one. It contains a painted vase and a letter.”

“Right… Bring the letter and vase to my personal chamber. I will have the servants move these containers to my workshop.”

“As you wish, sir.”

As much as Harry was dying to read the letter, he held off until all of the pressing affairs were taken care of. His position in court came with great profit and heavy burdens. To many, his father’s business was nothing but a commodity to be owned by any means necessary. The slightest little thing could be used against him. Harry had to assume that all letters coming in or leaving his home were read by one noble’s spy or another.

That was why Peter had been so special. He had nothing to manipulate and no reasons to lie. He was the only person at court that Harry had been able to trust completely. It was a friendship that Harry had greatly valued and he still mourned the loss of it. There were days that Harry would give anything to talk to Peter again.

When at last Harry was able to retire to his room and lock the door from prying eyes, he fell upon the vase and ignored the letter. He would have to read it later to know what lie Peter had concocted for others to read, but the real treasure was the vase. It was sealed from top to bottom in the same basic design that both Peter and Harry had learned long ago from a clay worker. Peter’s painting skills, forever better than Harry’s, covered the vase. It had been their secret way to send each other private letters for years.

Harry took out his tools and began chipping away at the clay so he could get inside. He would wax the pieces together later in order to stave off suspicion. It took a lot of self control to do it right rather than smashing the thing and coming up with excuses later. At long last, he was in.

The vase was stuffed full with leather bound stacks of parchment. He pulled them all out and opened them, looking for the letter that would start things off. Seeing Peter’s handwriting once more was painfully nostalgic. Harry was thrilled at the long letter he finally unraveled. He couldn’t tell yet if so many words was a good or bad thing.

_Dear Harry,_

_I want to apologize for how short my previous letter to you was. Further, I beg you forgive me for everything that I am about to ask of you. I am in dire need of your help, and you are the only one I can trust…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I chose to use Daken rather than Akihiro because Akihiro was the name given by the adoptive parents, Daken eventually rejected it and reclaimed the name Daken, and Daken means mutt, which is relevant to his situation in the story. 
> 
> I needed the least intimidating person I could think of to work with Peter at the Markets, and the person that came to mind was Manuel, The Matador. He was literally just a matador that was mad about losing his job. He later reformed and became a regular babysitter for his sister’s kids.
> 
> I was a chapter ahead prior to this chapter. I struggled with it so much and legit finished juuust in time to make my Saturday deadline. @.@ So much happened and I wanted to make sure all of it was presented in a way that didn't drag. I still don't feel like it's perfect but oh well. I'm not gonna obsess over perfection. I have a story to tell! o/
> 
> Also, I think I burnt myself out these past two weeks. I've written soooo many words. XD Look forward to a new YoI fic coming out tomorrow. I'm in love with it. I hope you like it. We seriously left that whole "a drabble is long enough" thing in the dust and together wrote 16k in 2 weeks. @.@ I think I just need to watch some TV for a day. lol
> 
> Anywho, I hope you guys liked the Markets and all that happened! I wanted to keep it all contained to one chapter. Let me know your thoughts. ^.^


	23. Winds of Change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm late! I'm late!
> 
> It's been a fairly hectic time recently. Also, got my [hair did](https://thatvixenchick.tumblr.com/post/173650040058/chapter-23-update) and someone backed into my ( _parked!!! ffs_ ) car. I leave schedule updates on my tumblr if something is up, just fyi, in case you wanna check what's up. They'll be tagged under #me or #untethered.
> 
> I will also being skipping next week's update since I'll be teaching/vending at con. I'll be gone most of the week. So update will happen in 2 weeks. Sorry for the delay!

Daken, thankfully, had a healthy fear of dragons, not that he showed it. He would stand at a distance and watch them with an impassive face, never running from their actions nor getting any closer. Sometimes they would stare him down in return. They always ended up getting distracted and looking away first.

It was a little unnerving, in a way. Peter didn’t really want to consider what Daken had been through to cause him to have such a reaction. It worked out for him, however. Most of the caravan seemed to think he was brave for a child growing up in what they considered to be tame lands. Everyone liked Daken.

He used that to his advantage. Peter didn’t say anything to it, just let it happen. Letting the kid have some allies was good for everyone involved. If Daken felt safer feeling as if he controlled the others, then so be it. In the end, Craxians were far more stubborn than Daken was giving them credit for.

The trip back was harder than Peter expected it to be, but mostly for internal reasons. They had been so busy at market, and the sellers would all sleep in a tent behind the booth to keep an eye on their wares. Peter wasn’t given much time alone to his thoughts. But traveling, Peter found himself drifting away into his own head and worries once more.

Worst of all, at night in his empty tent, he’d feel alone. He missed the press of Wade’s body and the flutter of hot breath on his neck. The grounding feel of Wade’s arms had become a constant and he found it difficult to sleep without someone close to him. He had too much pride to ask if he could room with someone else, however.

So instead, he’d just remember the feel of Wade and imagine the man’s arms around him. Of course, that turned into imagining the feeling of Wade’s hands on his naked body, the hard press of flesh behind him, the press of Wade’s lips on his own. Before Peter knew it, his hands were moving, trailing along his skin, reaching for the growing hardness of his cock. With every willful move, his imagination continued, remembering in vivid detail all of the depraved things Wade had done to Peter’s body.

It was… conflicting. Peter being able to admit that he enjoyed the things that Wade did was tough enough as it was. Peter admitting that his home was in Kocrax was a little easier. But actively being homesick and touching himself to the memory of Wade’s advances… When had he gotten to this point?

And did it matter?

Peter squeezed his hand a little tighter, sending a flare of pleasure through him. The image of Wade’s mouth wrapped around his cock was vivid in his mind’s eye. He loved it. He shouldn’t, but he did. Something about Wade’s complete dismissal of any shame over such a debasing act just so he could please Peter… Well, it left Peter burning up from the inside out.

Sucking in a deep breath, Peter moved his hand faster and thrust his hips into the movement. He enjoyed watching his cock disappear into Wade’s ass. Loved the little grunts and whines that filled the room as Peter moved. Seeing Wade’s large, battle scarred body beneath him, taking all he wanted to give was a heady feeling.

Did that make Peter depraved? In Floa Bral, it certainly would. In Kocrax, it was considered cute at worst and holy at best. If Kocrax was his home, then why should any other country’s beliefs affect him? Why couldn’t he just let go of his concerns and enjoy what brought him pleasure? No, not just him. Wade took great pleasure in it as well.

After they would finish, Wade would have this soft look of adoration on his face. He would always look blissed out and content. Those fingers that had previously aroused would then comfort, stroking over all of Peter in the most caring and affectionate way. Wade’s smile came to Peter’s mind, the one reserved only for him, bright, affectionate, and a tad silly.

Peter gritted his teeth and came to the image of Wade’s face hovering over him, gazing at him with l—

His breaths were loud in the quiet of the tent as he groped for a cloth to clean himself off. He lay there afterwards, drifting on a cloud of afterglow and forcing himself to stay calm. He had another week or so until Wade caught up with the caravan to retrieve Peter. That was how much time he had to get out of his own way. Wade deserved no more indecisions and hang ups from Peter.

 

~*~

 

The wind whipped around Peter, sending his hair into a flurry as Shiklah beat her wings hard in order to land on flat ground. Peter was standing a good distance away from the rest of the caravan that was setting up camp by the light of the setting sun. The moment Shiklah blew out her breath, she immediately began to nuzzle Peter, her mouth still a bit too hot for comfort, but Peter grinned and greeted her nonetheless.

He didn’t get to have much more time with her than that before Wade launched himself to the ground and scooped Peter off his feet and into an all encompassing hug. Peter wrapped his arms around Wade in return, a grin splitting his face of its own accord. Wade nuzzled into Peter’s neck, breathing in deep.

“I missed you,” Wade mumbled into Peter’s skin.

“I missed you, too.”

Wade abruptly set Peter back down and pulled them apart enough to study Peter’s face. “You mean that?”

Peter rolled his eyes but was still smiling. “Yes, I do. I’ve been missing home for a while.”

The look on Wade’s face was as over-emotional as usual. Peter cupped Wade’s cheeks in his hands, hoping to distract the man before he broke down into tears. Peter swallowed hard and forced out the words he’d promised himself to say.

“Kiss me.”

Peter didn’t have to ask twice. Wade’s mouth crashed into his with gumption. They devoured each other, earning them a loud chorus of whoops and comments from the camp. Wade’s arms pressed them close, as if his very skin had missed Peter and he was making up for lost time. Peter _might_ have been able to relate to that feeling.

Shiklah moved forward and huffed hot air over them before rumbling in a happy way. They finally pulled apart in order to give her more attention. Peter kept smiling. He found that he couldn’t stop, which tended to be unusual for him. However, being surrounded by the life he had learned to miss, he found that it left him bubbling over with excitement.

And it would be very un-Craxian of him to try and suppress it.

“We have a lot to go over,” Peter said, running his hand along Shiklah’s nose.

“You’ll be the one updating me on it all, right?” Wade wrapped an arm around Peter’s waist, keeping them close together.

Peter smirked. “Yes.”

After helping to remove the travel gear from Shiklah and sending her off to find food, Peter took Wade around the camp, showing the goods they had managed to acquire and going over their total sales. Plenty of people chimed in with the details of their act in the market, which Wade seemed to find great amusement in. He kept dropping quick kisses onto Peter’s temple with each new fact he learned about how they had managed to turn things in their favor.

As much as Peter wanted to avoid it, he eventually had to tell Wade about the response that had been sent to Cethad. Peter had made a copy of his exact wording in the letter so that it could be discussed during the meetings once he returned. Wade read it over in silence as Peter fretted.

“Are you mad?”

Once again, Wade dropped a kiss onto Peter’s head, as if he was compelled to do so and unable to stop. “No! You did exactly what you should have done. Besides, I trust your response more than I trust anyone else’s.”

“I hope there are no conflicts with the dates.”

“I doesn’t matter.” Wade rolled up the parchment and placed it back with Peter’s belongings. “Setting up trade takes priority over anything else.” Wade took hold of Peter’s shoulders. “What matters most is that you’re okay.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “You worry too much.”

“Didn’t you worry about _me_?”

“What about you?” Peter deadpanned, raising his eyebrows.

“I live with _dragons._ Anything could have happened to me!”

Peter snorted and pushed at Wade’s shoulder, earning him a giant grin. “How’s Ellie?”

“Doing well. She misses you.”

“I’ve missed her, too.”

A whistle interrupted them and they both looked over to see the day’s current cook announcing dinner. Wade dragged them over, starving after a day of riding Shiklah. They ate and chatted with the others, everyone introducing Wade to the quiet and often sullen looking Daken. Peter had to explain in further detail how that had happened, but Wade didn’t seem near as concerned as he should have been. He just robustly welcomed Daken to the country.

After dinner, Peter pulled them away from the others and to a quiet area. They sat on a boulder and gazed at the vast array of stars overhead. Wade leaned his shoulder into Peter’s as they sat in silence, collecting their thoughts.

“Wade…”

“You don’t have to,” Wade jumped in.

Peter blinked, struggling to keep up with Wade’s thoughts. “Don’t have to what?”

“Say whatever it is you’re thinking so hard about. You don’t have to force yourself and we don’t have to talk about anything that happened—” Wade abruptly cut off when one of his scarred hands was picked up and placed in Peter’s. Long fingers brushed against Wade’s palm, over and over, in a soft lulling motion, leaving Wade tongue-tied.

“When I was younger, I was always fighting against my parents and their expectations of me as a lord.” Peter spoke while watching either his fingers or the sky, but he always kept contact with Wade’s hand. “Then the war came and my previous troubles seemed so petty in comparison. I had a whole new set of problems to deal with and more responsibilities heaped on my shoulders during those times.”

Peter swallowed his emotion and focused on tracing the scars on Wade’s fingers, trying to let that distract him from his memories. “Then my parents died. They my friends died. Then my uncle died. Escaping to the palace only brought a different kind of war. It felt as if I had only two allies I could rely on there. I had to be careful of everything I said and did. I was mocked for my status almost daily. I was given all the jobs nobody wanted. Then I lost the last of my family.”

Wade stayed unusually silent as Peter monologued. He looked terrified of speaking in the middle of such a confession. Peter couldn’t blame the man. He rarely opened up, so it must have seemed like such a miracle that Peter was talking about all of this of his own accord.

“Getting married off the way I did seemed inevitable in a way. My life was one bad experience after another. One more struggle, one more horrifying experience. I thought I had nothing left to lose, but I was proven wrong.”

“I’m sorr—”

“No,” Peter interrupted, but smiled to soften the command. “Let me finish. You see, I know that during all of those times, I had moments when I was happy. How could I not? But despite knowing that, I could never really look at a single point of time and say that I was _happy_ there.

“It seems silly to say, but I think I got so used to being miserable, that I didn’t know how to be anything else. You kept telling me to do what I wanted, but I didn’t know how. You tried to show me how to enjoy life, but I’d had little practice. All I could do was focus on the bad, obsess over it, and expect it at every turn. I just _knew_ I was going to be miserable, so I made sure that I was, no matter how much you tried to change that.”

“My priority was my country, even though I knew you were hurting,” Wade said, pain in his voice. “Me trying to ease the way for you doesn’t mean that you had no reason to hate me.”

“At first,” Peter agreed, peering through the darkness to seek out the worried features of Wade’s face. “But it hasn’t been like that for a long time. I knew that, but I didn’t accept it. All because I didn’t know how to let go of the habit of being bitter.”

“You know I’d do anything to help make you happy.”

“I do know that.” Peter dropped Wade’s hand in favor of cupping scarred cheeks. “The point is, that I may be out of practice and have my bad days, but… I _am_ happy. I’m happy in Kocrax. I’m happy with _you_.”

“Really?” Wade breathed in disbelief.

“Yes. I’m bad at this. I don’t know how to deal with it or show it, but I am happy. That’s why I’m telling you.”

“You didn’t have to,” Wade’s voice wavered with emotion.

A soft smile pulled at Peter’s lips. “Yes, I did. I don’t speak nearly as often as I should.”

Unable to take it any longer, Wade fell forward and kissed Peter breathless. Fingers tangled in Peter’s hair, and arms wrapped around Wade’s neck. They devoured each other slowly and thoroughly, making up for lost time. When at last Wade pulled back, he spoke.

“Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. I always want you to be safe, comfortable, happy, and strong. Just tell me. I promise I’ll do anything in my power. And as a chief, I have considerable power.”

Peter grinned. “I know you would.” He leaned in and pressed their foreheads together, taking a moment to feel Wade’s presence, something he’d taken for granted before missing it for so long. “Share my bed with me tonight.”

“You don’t have a bed.”

Peter let out a long suffering sigh. “Fine. Share my pile of furs with me tonight.”

Wade abruptly stood up, scooping a startled Peter into his arms as he went. “Absolutely. Yes. Right now. Let’s go.”

The laugh that bubbled up out of Peter couldn’t be contained as Wade booked it back to camp. He carried Peter less like something precious and more like a sack of unruly rice that was needed in the kitchens two meals ago. A few people grinned and made happy, lewd comments as they passed. For once, Peter gave it no mind.

They spent the night wrapped up in each other, Peter gazing down at Wade’s blissful face as he filled his husband with his seed more than once. Wade pulled them tight together when they finally settled down to sleep. For the first time in two months, Peter slept soundly through the night.

 

~*~

 

The council, of course, had plenty of things to say about Peter’s decision to respond to Cethad on his own. They debated every single thing that Peter had written when reviewing his copy of the letter. After many arguments and a few fist fights, it occurred to Peter that they were just scared. Things were changing, and though they had pushed for those changes, it was still difficult to take in stride. The country’s health depended on whether those changes proved to be a good thing, but there was no way to guarantee the outcome.

After a lot of open discussions and more than just Wade bursting into tears, they managed to settle down and determine that there was not much that would have been changed in Peter’s letter. Even what little Peter agreed should have been different didn’t make all that great of an impact. As it was, they just had to wait and hope for the best.

In the meantime, the council had determined during Peter’s absence that Wade needed to go on tour to all of the cities in Swujan. He had speeches written up that he’d been memorizing. Wade was not fond of going on the lengthy trip. He argued its necessity regularly.

“The country has been in turmoil for a while,” Peter lectured. “The people need to know what is being done to remedy this. They need hope. They need to see you as a competent leader.”

“Not everyone thinks trade makes me competent,” Wade pouted.

“Then you have to prove them wrong.”

So Peter agreed to travel with Wade and his entourage as support. They flew to each place, with Peter and Wade riding Shiklah and a group of guards and aids riding paeyo alongside. They did not take horses or carts, instead relying on the hospitality of each place they visited, as they had all been informed of the upcoming visit.

Though Peter knew that there were many cities in Swujan, he hadn’t fully appreciated that. Knowing that most of the land was desert left him imagining only small areas of human life. There was a large population in the capital and The Three Sisters, which he was personally aware of. However, towns and cities sprawled all over Swujan, taking advantage of all that they could.

Clustered groups of villages living on buttes, more elaborate mesa cities, winding towns built on sandstone poles that tended the high ground farmland nearby, and many more stubborn dots of life in an inhospitable land. There were even groups of people that lived along the line of the Scoajan Mountains, gathering what they could that grew wild in the valleys and hiding in the caves to avoid the territorial wyvern. Though the cave entrances and tunnels were small and cramped, the caverns within were giant and covered in structures to help them live a normal life.

If nothing else, the cities were a testament to how Craxians were stubborn and creative, always finding a way to survive against all odds. However, it was that exact reason that made them so reluctant towards change. They had survived for years only knowing that other countries wished to see them contained and shamed for their way of life. The concept of trade, in many civilians minds, was that it caused a reliance on others, thus making them weaker.

Not unexpectedly, they blamed a lot of that on Peter.

“They sent you a foreign stray to whisper ideas into your head that will lead us to our doom! The Allied Nations wish to control us!”

It wasn’t the first time someone had shouted something of the sort at them from where they stood on a platform while Wade gave his speech. It also wasn’t the first time Wade launched himself at someone and tried to kill them over insulting Peter. Aleksei was on strict orders from Peter to pull Wade off prior to him murdering anyone. Killing citizens wouldn’t exactly help matters.

As expected, Wade went to attack, but that time, Peter had had enough. He yanked Wade back by the collar, dropping one knee to catch the back of Wade’s in order to send the man sprawling. Peter pulled out his rapier and jumped off the platform to face off with the citizen who was ready for a fight.

“That was an insult to me, so I will fight for myself.” Peter stated calmly. “Would you like to choose a weapon?”

The angry man, who his cheering friends called [Brock](http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Brock_Rumlow_\(Earth-616\)), yanked out a knife and scoffed at Peter’s thin sword. Rapiers weren’t common in Kocrax, so very few understood how they worked in a fight. Peter was about to teach a lesson.

Brock roared and ran at Peter, proving that his training wasn’t all that great to begin with. Peter easily dodged it, having the advantage of speed over Brock’s bulky frame, and whipped his rapier a few times against the other man’s body. Bits of cloth ripped from where the pointed tip bit into flesh, leaving slow bleeding puncture wounds at each spot. Peter could have run the man through easily, but he had no desire to do such a thing.

They spent long enough fighting that the crowd’s bloodthirsty excitement dwindled as they realized that Peter was toying with their verbose champion. Peter with his small frame, Brals blood, and tiny sword was manipulating the situation entirely. They seemed unsure of how to react to that as Brock began to falter, gasping for breath, sweat drenched, and aching from one too many tiny wounds.

When Brock finally stumbled face first into the dirt, Peter backed up and lowered his now bloodstained weapon. He watched the man make the difficult decision to not stand back up. A few people from the crowd rushed over to him and pulled him out of Peter’s reach. Peter didn’t give chase. That wasn’t the point of his teaching moment.

Looking up at the now much quieter crowd, Peter pitched his voice loud, determined to be heard. “A tiny little cut, one after another, just enough to make you think you still have the advantage of strength, weaponry, and prowess. All you have to do is stay out of range in order to not get hurt. Kocrax has learned well how to stay out of range. You stay within the walls of your cage with great efficiency.”

Peter had been surprised that so many Craxian citizens spoke of the Allied Nations. They used it as a fear mongering statement, however. The Allied Nations were a group of countries in accord with one another to guarantee peace and fair trade — nothing more, nothing less. Kocrax seemed to think it was some great coalition of nations, jerking each other off and stealing from the mouths of poorer countries.

“Kocrax has become a tamed beast, listening to the commands of its master!” Peter didn’t hold back, wanting to really drive home his point. “They tell you to fear the lock of your cage, and you listen. They tell you that you are too ferocious to feed, and you are happy. They tell you to hide from the world, and you obey.”

Peter sliced his rapier through the air, sending drops of blood splattering onto the ground. “Is that what you want? You fear being controlled by others only to bear your neck to them. They tell you that trade causes dependence and you believe them.”

The crowd murmured, debating or arguing Peter’s words amongst themselves. It would take a bit more of a push to drive home the point.

Hopping back up onto the platform, Peter snatched up a bag of coins and dumped them onto the stone floor. He shuffled a large group of them to one side, then a smaller group, then three lone coins off to itself. “When the other countries are in abundance, they spread their wealth, making all of them equal.” Peter shuffled the coins appropriately. “While Kocrax stays here, using up its resources and slowly dying.” He slid one of the three coins away.

“So where do we gain extra resources? How do we achieve equal wealth to the other countries? Do we wait for the gods to rain down gold from the sky?” He didn’t wait for an answer. Everyone knew what the gods did and didn’t do. Handouts of material wealth were not one of their blessings.

“If Kocrax is kept always on the verge of starvation and insulated from equal wealth, then you will always remain caged. For if you were on equal footing, who could stop you? You are stronger, smarter, and more unrelenting than any other country! They _fear_ you! And yet here you stay, locked in your cage, wary of your masters because they differ from the simple walls of your prison.”

At that, the crowd was a little more active, getting antsy at the thought of being willfully contained. They shouted random things, some arguing Peter, and some in agreeance. Not all were against change or the trade agreements with other countries. They found themselves more capable of giving a voice to their stance in the face of Peter’s speech.

Peter pointed his rapier at where Shiklah watched over them all, ready to eat anyone that posed any real danger to Peter or Wade. “ _That_ is what other nations fear. I came here knowing this. I made my home in Kocrax aware of how constrained it was. I was taught that you were well controlled and helpless. But I discovered a country bound in chains without realizing it.”

Pointing to the audience once more he asked, “How many times must you hear your children cry with hunger before you realize that ‘tradition’ and fear of change is holding you back? Because I stand by the chief and I see too many people dying for me to hold my silence. I will give over every last bit of knowledge I have to see this country be great.”

Taking a deep breath, Peter pitched his voice as loud as he could. “Outsiders fear dragons, but they don’t seem to understand!” He raised his sword high. “You _are_ dragons! They should be fearing _you_!”

The crowd erupted. If there was one thing they all agreed on, it was their own power and the blessing of the dragons. Peter just had to convince them that he was on their side. It wouldn’t work entirely, those that were determined to keep their opinions would die holding onto them. Craxians were stubborn to a fault. But the winds of change were upon them either way.

Wade whirled Peter around and kissed him with enough ferocity to leave them both inappropriately out of breath. That only encouraged the crowd, as Craxians enjoyed seeing public displays of affection. There were certainly more than a few citizens that had decided that Peter was officially one of their own now.

And that was nice, knowing that others accepted him without truly knowing him. But to be honest, the only people that Peter really needed believing in him was his family.

Peter grinned into Wade’s mouth as he wrapped his arms around those broad shoulders. Wade had two handfuls of Peter’s ass and despite the still unsheathed rapier, Peter didn’t stab Wade for it. No, for now, he just allowed himself to be showered in attention. They still had a lot of work to do and needed to take any moments they could get.

“To a new era!” Aleksei bellowed. Shiklah roared in response and everyone joined her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I give you: happy Peter! \o/ Let us be joyous and celebrate!
> 
> So, dear readers, what was the happiest point in _your_ life?


	24. The Attack on Whaytho

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Information key:**  
>  Kocrax: _Wade’s home country, known for being the only nation with dragons._  
>  Craxians: _Citizens of Kocrax._  
>  Swujan: _Northern province of Kocrax, lead by Wade._  
>  Whaytho: _Current capital of Swujan province._  
>  Ostor: _Southern province of Kocrax, lead by Nathan (Cable)._  
>  Cethad: _Large country to the north of Q’otha._
> 
> Karusson: _Stocky, flightless dragons used for labor._  
>  Paeyo: _Dragons with naturally armored scales. Used primarily for long distance flights, battle, and protection of territory._  
>  Wyvern: _Fire breathing dragons that live in the Scoajan Mountains. Largest species of dragons._
> 
> Gella: _Dragon dung and vegetation formed into a hard brick and used as a burning fuel source. It burns brighter, hotter, and longer than any other current useable fuel source in any known country._  
>  Flight: _A group of dragons. The equivalent to a pack, pride, or herd._  
>  Mesa and butte: _Tableland, a hill or mountain with a flat top resembling a table. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Table_(landform)_

Negotiations with Cethad would need to cover multiple years. Currently, the biggest concern was food and that was all they needed to trade for. However, that wasn’t going to be the case forever. So long term, they needed an idea of what they could obtain and how to use it. Wood was Cethad’s biggest export, so that was being discussed at length.

Wade and Peter stood in one of the tall towers and gazed down at the city below. They discussed a great many options from lighter caravan carts to more bridges to boats that could carry heavy weight up and down the river. Wade wasn’t so sure about using it for building expansions. Peter had to go over the ways that wood needed to be treated regularly for it to survive the elements, but insisted that lighter wood on the solid sandstone foundations would give a lot more options for multiple level homes.

“It’s difficult to expand the city beyond what it’s already grown to, given the flooding,” Peter argued. “If you can’t build out, then you should build _up._ That’s a lesson Kocrax has already learned in the mesas.”

“That’s a different situation.” Wade crossed his arms and stared at the lines of homes below him. “This is for individual homes.”

“Exactly! Individuals who can build a full housing unit on top of their own for extended family or to rent out for extra coin. It’s economy boosting.”

“You’re hoping this will help integrate people who don’t already have family homes.” Wade knew full well that Peter never stopped trying to come up with solutions for the city’s strays.

Peter shrugged. “Two things can be true. Besides, keeping outcasts on the edges of the city doesn’t help prove their stigmas wrong.”

“Well, we can start with a few public buildings for those needing a place to stay temporarily, like the buildings that the Priestesses run, and—”

Wade didn’t get to finish before something slammed hard into the side of the tower, causing them both to instinctively duck. Men were shouting and the alarmed chirps of a paeyo could be heard outside. Wade began cursing, wanting to know who decided it was a good idea to land against the tower that hard, as it could have injured the dragon.

They didn’t have to wait long to find out. The paeyo in questions scraped its way along the outside of the tower before coming into view of the nearest window. The rider dropped down inside, rolling to a stop and looking up with wild, panicked eyes. Peter stopped breathing. Something was very, very wrong.

“A rider from Ostor!” The man all but shouted, still buzzing from adrenaline. “Alone! A large flight of paeyo are right on top of whoever it is. They’re being led directly into the city. The rider is barely keeping ahead of them.”

Wade’s face went hard in a way it only did when he was preparing himself for a battle. “Is the Ostor riding wearing colors?”

“Blue, but the rest of the party is nowhere in sight.”

Peter had recently learned that blue banners meant a small group of riders from different provinces that were specifically sent as messengers. If there was only one rider pushing hard to make it to the city, the rest of the group must have been killed. It was a miracle the single rider had made it so far.

“How many are in the flight?” Wade asked, walking over to the window but not seeing much in the distance yet.

“Over two dozen, at least.”

Wade cursed hard and called for one of the guards to sound the alarm. He took the spiraled horn from his belt and tossed it to the rider. “Take that up top and connect it to the blast horn. We’re going to need wyvern support for this.”

The rider ran off as the alarms started blowing from tower to tower. The people far below in the streets ran for their homes and the shelters they’d built for just such an occasion. Wade gripped Peter by the shoulders in a hard grip that Peter only belatedly realized he was struggling to feel. He knew that wild paeyo attacks were common, but he’d yet to experience one first hand, and they weren’t supposed to be on this level.

“Peter!” Brown eyes snapped to attention on Wade’s unusually serious face. “Get to the Queen Mother. There’s a shelter at the main temple. You have plenty of time.”

Peter nodded and forced air into his lungs. The dragons weren’t in sight yet. He could get to the shelter with time to spare. They’d be locked in and safe until the city guards had dispatched the wild dragons. The paeyo in the city were prepared for battle and trained in techniques with their riders. They would be able to neutralize the threat quickly and efficiently.

The blast horn blew deafeningly loud, reverberating along the stone walls of the tower, making Peter jump. Wade shoved Peter towards the stairs. “GO!”

Paralysis broken, Peter turned and ran, taking the steps two or three at a time, dodging the other guards running around the tower to make it to their dragons. Paeyo were landing on or crawling up the tower in hoards, knowing full well what the alarm meant. Peter told himself to take comfort in the sounds of their screeching. It meant one more trained dragon against the intruders.

Bursting from the tower, Peter ran north, focused only on getting to the temple. People ran around him in a frenzy as they made it to their own places to hide. A large group of people ran alongside Peter as they headed north, determining that to be the safest place. Peter sucked in breath after breath of hot late summer air and told himself that it would be okay. He had plenty of time. It’d be over soon. Shiklah would keep Wade safe.

Peter was halfway to his destination when he was distracted by a scream. There was a young girl with tears in her eyes, desperately trying to get panicked karusson in a pen under control. Her arm dripped with fresh blood from where one of them had scratcher her in their panic. Still, she remained with them, determination set in her features as she tried to corral dragons that were too strong for her to handle.

Peter’s steps faltered and people bumped him as they ran past. Nobody went to help the girl and nobody else seemed to be around. The sound of alarm horns still blared throughout the city. Gritting his teeth, Peter left the road and ran to the pen, jumping the stone wall so he could run over and help her yank down on the reins of the agitated karusson.

“Where’s the handler?” Peter shouted above all the noise.

“He left and abandoned all of them!” Her disgusted face showed exactly what she thought of that. “I won’t leave them out in the open like this!”

“We have time,” Peter said, more for himself than the girl. “I’ll hold the reins, you keep them calm. We’ll get them into the shelter one by one.”

Throwing his body weight into it, Peter kept the karusson’s head tilted down instead of thrashing around and staring at the panicked surroundings. The girl gripped the dragon’s snout and spoke to it in a soothing manner, coaxing the beast step at a time to the wide stone shelter. Once inside, habit took over and the karusson was easily led into a stall and secured. One down, five more to go.

Peter refused to think about how long it was taking. He just kept telling himself that they had time. They could run and be at the temple soon. There were still people around. Worst case scenario, they found a home to hole up in. It would fine. He just had to stay calm and focus on the task at hand.

The crowd in the streets thinned. The girl’s hands began to shake. The last karusson was breathing too heavy and making constant panicked tones. It took a while to get the beast inside and then secure the doors of the shelter. So long as they didn’t burst from their stalls and start running, they should be safe from any stray lethal spit from above.

However, the potential for the karusson to break out and to draw attention from the attacking flight of paeyo made it not safe for the humans to stay. Peter wouldn’t give the girl any more time than she’d already had. He grabbed her arm and dragged her out the door, forcing them into a run. The nearly empty streets and echoing blasts of horns didn’t escape them.

 _We still have time._ Peter’s heart felt ready to burst out of his chest. He couldn’t get enough air. He forced himself to keep running.

 _We still have time._ The girl’s face was pale and she stumbled as they ran. Guards were shouting at each other in the distance, but civilians were missing. The muffled sound of a baby crying rang through the streets, cutting through the constant drone of the horns.

 _We still have time._ The horn blasts stopped abruptly. Peter’s ears rang in the sudden silence. His breaths felt overly loud. A sob ripped out of the girl next to him. She faltered but he pulled her forward until she found her footing again. They couldn’t stop. They weren’t far enough north yet. The top of the temple was barely within view.

A shadow sliced across the ground. Shrieks from paeyo called overhead. Peter couldn’t afford to look up and check that it was one of theirs, it might slow them down. The temple roof was growing as they got closer. Irrational fear told Peter that they might have locked themselves inside already. What if they wouldn’t be let in? Where would they go? Should they stop and attempt to find a home to enter instead? Which building close to them looked the safest?

The noises above them grew louder, shrieks overlapping each other. Something wet hit the roof of a nearby building. Peter felt cold fear numb his lips and tighten his chest. They took a hard right at the upcoming road and ran underneath a pavilion to take shelter from whatever was above them. They kept moving, trying to keep an eye on what the next shelter was that they could dodge to.

Before they could make it any further, a dragon slammed into a building across from them and rolled down the side of it to the ground in a shower of rubble. The girl beside him screamed and backed up, tugging Peter along with her. They pressed themselves back against the wall of the building and tried to catch their breath while ignoring the fatigue in their limbs.

The paeyo shook itself and tried to stand, one wing bent at an unnatural angle and dragging the ground. The armor along its body wasn’t smooth and well maintained. It was jagged and chipped, the chunks of exposed skin covered in scars. Wild eyes focused on the two humans across from it, shrieking at them in anger.

“Go!” Peter shouted, and they took off back the way they came, hyper aware of the sounds of scrabbling claws against stone.

They dove down a smaller alley, hoping to cut through the houses and back onto one of the main roads. Hopefully it would be narrow enough not to be pursued. Someone whistled from an overhang and Peter almost missed it in his single minded focus to run. The girl looked up to see someone calling for them from a window. The doors on the first floor were already closed and barricaded.

“Come on!” A woman shouted, holding out her hand.

The girl looked at Peter and he didn’t hesitate, just hoisted her up so that she could be pulled inside. That was all the time they had. The wild paeyo had crawled up onto the buildings to chase its prey. Peter had to distract it so it wouldn’t go after the people locked inside the house with the too thin walls and open stone windows.

“Hurry!” the girl shouted at Peter, reaching for him.

“Get inside and hide!” Peter yelled back and took off as the unknown woman bodily dragged the girl inside the window when she went to dive at Peter.

Peter’s legs screamed at him and fear roiled in his stomach. He could hear hisses and coughs around him but he didn’t know if it came from above him or from the pursuing dragon. He ducked between two smaller buildings, sliding sideways through the too tight area between them to get to the road on the other side. The thin fabric of his robes pressed against the sweat pouring down his skin and clung to it. Grit and dirt caked his mouth from where he gasped for breath.

The shriek of a paeyo was too close.

Launching himself out onto the next road, Peter started running as fast as his burning limbs would let him. The sound of nails on rock followed by the crashing of items caught Peter’s attention. He turned to see the paeyo crawling along the rooftops to his left. His skin prickled in terror and he dodged right into a random alleyway. It curved and twisted at random.

Peter could barely focus enough to figure out where he was in the city anymore. All he could do was run down another alley and another, desperately trying to keep ahead, flinching at every shadow and shriek that darted in and out of range. Something slammed into a building by him and he blindly turned and ran the other direction.

Dead end.

For a moment, Peter stared at the wall in front of him without comprehending it. His lungs burned for more air than he could give them and his ears rang with the sound of his own heartbeat. The need to keep running coursed through his veins, but he stood frozen, unsure of where to go. A thump and scratching noise overrode Peter’s panic. He whirled around to see the wild paeyo blocking the only exit.

 _You’re not dying here!_ Peter screamed at himself. _Think!_

Looking up, Peter saw the imperfections of the buildings, the sills on the windows, and the jutting poles with rope attached for drying laundry. If the paeyo could climb up and over, so could Peter. He ran full force at the wall, one foot lifting up to keep the momentum going against the side of the building and pushing himself into the air enough to grab a pole and a window ledge in each hand. He used that to pull himself up higher, his toes hooking into the little pock marks in the stone.

The paeyo snapped its jaw and shrieked at Peter. Instead of pursuing, however, it pulled back on its hind legs, opened its jaw wide, and began to drool. Peter’s stomach plummeted. It was going to spit. He wasn’t sure how large of a range the spit had. Was there even a way to dodge it?

Right before it could do anything further, a spear was sticking out of the paeyo’s neck. It gurgled and clawed at its throat as it collapsed to the ground, writhing around in agony. Peter gaped at it. What had just happened?

“Great Wife!”

Peter looked up to the roof above him to see a bloodied and dirt covered guard running up to him. Gritting his teeth, Peter pushed against his footholds and made it a little further up. With help from the guard, Peter was pulled onto the rooftops and away from the dying paeyo on the ground.

Not that the rooftops were safe. The sky was filled with battling paeyo. A heavy roar in the distance indicated that Shiklah was swooping into the city at last. That only caused the wild paeyo to become more frantic.

“Come!” The guard tugged Peter along and they started running and jumping across rooftops in order to get to a place that would lead them back to the ground. “My family owns a wine cellar. I have a key for emergencies. It’s not ideal, but it is safer than being in the open.”

Peter couldn’t argue with that. He followed along as they made a winding path from shorter to shorter building. There was a domed building up ahead that they could use to slide down to the bottom. They didn’t make it that far.

An injured wild paeyo fell from the sky, its lashing tail catching them in the backs and sending them flying. Peter’s arms flailed instinctively for purchase and gripped onto strung up ropes, thankfully devoid of laundry. The bulk of the paeyo slammed into the ropes as well, snapping them and dropping Peter into a fall again. That time he controlled it by gripping the ropes tight and riding them down to the ground where he slid and rolled to a stop.

The guard had managed to catch a window ledge and made a controlled fall to the ground. Yet again, that left them trapped in a contained area with a wild dragon. Thankfully, that time they weren’t as boxed in.

Peter darted under an archway that lead to another open road. “Let’s go!”

Instead of following, the guard picked up a large broken metal chunk off a personal gella press that the dragon had knocked off the roof. “Find shelter, I’ll take ‘im down.” He slammed his makeshift war hammer against the wall beside him to get the dragon’s attention. “To the death!”

The paeyo shrieked in return. Peter wavered on what to do, but another dragon tumbled across rooftops a few blocks away. The wild dragons falling from the sky meant that they were winning the fight, but it also meant danger for anyone left out in the open without the means to fight back. Which seemed to be, at the moment, only Peter.

Having no better options, no weapons, and no battle strategies, he ran. Looking around wildly, he tried to determine where exactly he was. The temple roof was nowhere in sight. One of the large towers came and went, the markings on it showing just how close Peter was to the west side of town. That meant he was far too close to open land for comfort. With more and more wild paeyo losing their battles and falling, Peter needed somewhere sturdy to hide. Somewhere that his smell could be masked.

His mind flipped through multiple possibilities, but there was nothing in sight that would work. He leaped onto a low wall for a personal home and looked around him. He was out of the market districts. Any home he tried to take shelter in might put the families already residing within in jeopardy. Turning around, he caught sight of the metal cage looming over the homes, distant warbling calls from the baby paeyo echoed through the buildings.

A low wall a few homes away exploded into rubble as yet another dragon collided into it. The paeyo stood up on unsteady feet, blood dripping on the ground, one leg bent at an unnatural angle and hanging limp. Pure fury was in its eyes as it locked onto Peter. The need to fight was the only thing keeping the paeyo going, but it was enough to kill Peter if it got too close.

Settling on an insane plan, Peter ran in a new direction, hoping that the broken leg of the dragon behind him would make sure that it couldn’t catch up. The injuries of the fallen paeyo were the only thing that was allowing Peter to stay ahead. A healthy paeyo would have been too fast. He would have been snapped up in powerful jaws, claws ripping open his stomach, teeth yanking off his limbs—

_Stop it! Focus!_

Peter kept to the wider roads that time, hoping that his full sprint would help him reach his destination faster than the paeyo behind him could catch up. Most of the overhead battles were further away now, closer to the center of the city. All Peter had to do currently was focus on the danger at ground level.

The pained and enraged bursts of sounds from the injured paeyo never got further away, proving that it was still pursuing Peter with single minded focus. So Peter’s insane plan looked to be his only option. Shoving away his doubts and fear, refusing to acknowledge the aching burn screaming through his exhausted body, forcing his lungs to take in as much air as possible, Peter ran west.

When at last Peter ran out of the tight press of the city’s buildings, it was terror inducing. He didn’t like being out in the open with no options that he could take spur of the moment. All he could do was pray that another dragon would not fall too close to him. Shiklah’s booming roar behind him was both a comfort and a concern. She could easily throw a paeyo across half the city and into Peter’s path. He simply had that kind of luck.

The cage was within view, the three young paeyo within were running around the open area, eyes whipping around wildly as they tracked the distant battles in the sky. They saw Peter running towards them and backed further away from the opening to the cage. Good. That suited Peter’s plan.

Daring a glance behind him, he noticed the wild dragon was losing speed, its broken leg finally filtering through the haze. That didn’t mean it was stopping, however. It intended to win the territory fight and all of that focus was being aimed at the human within view. Gritting his teeth, Peter turned back around and pushed himself for extra speed, aiming for the giant winch.

If Peter had thought the running was terrifying, coming to a stop to crank the winch while watching the wild paeyo gain on him was far, far worse. Though he knew logically that he had more time, the sight of the angry drooling dragon, covered in blood and clawing its way forward, was enough to send Peter into an irrational panic. The gate to the cage was lifted only barely enough to squeeze under. That was all he needed.

Peter ran for the gate, dropped to the ground, rolled under it, used the momentum to bring him back to his feet, and ran full force at the three dragons shrieking in panic. He couldn’t afford to stop or calm them. He wasn’t sure it was _possible_ to calm them given the situation. Instead, he aimed for the gap between two of them and they skittered to the side as he ran by. Dropping to a crouch, he spun around as his slid to a stop on hands and knees in a cloud of dust.

Three sets of eyes stared at him in fear and confusion, their bodies defensive and backing away. Peter looked past them at the wild paeyo who slammed against the portcullis, shoving its snout against the gap too small to get its head under. Peter sucked in a giant breath of air, bowed his arms out to make himself look as large as possible, and shouted as loud as he could.

The three young paeyo whipped around to focus on the target. They spread their wings, dipped their heads low, and shrieked along with Peter. The wild dragon backed up and returned the angered cry, now realizing that it was four against one if it managed to get inside. Peter kept the young dragons going, wanting their focus to remain on the actual threat.

Eventually, the invading dragon stopped screaming and paced outside the cage, chirping in agitation at those out of reach. The other three all shuffled inwards, finding safety in the group. To Peter’s relief, they saw him as _part_ of that group and boxed him in. By some miracle, his crazy plan had worked.

The two sides ended up in a stalemate, the large dragon smacking its tail against the cage door every so often and making the others flinch and shriek. None of them moved, as if waiting for a command. It belatedly occurred to Peter that there was no dominant adult in the group. That was intentional to make sure that they would bond with a rider.

That meant the person giving the orders had to be Peter. Trying to think through the whirlwind of panic and fear, fight and flight, Peter was finally able to remember the right commands. It took a few tries to get his dry mouth to whistle, but he slowly worked through the calls, walking with them on all fours, as they backed up to an archway that led into the giant stone dome acting as their dwelling.

The anxiety of the dragons dropped quite a bit once they were inside the structure. Going from bright sunlight to unlit cave left Peter temporarily blinded as his eyes adjusted. He heard the other dragons shuffling around and when he vision cleared, he saw two them moving up to higher perches built into the walls, their eyes focused on the entrance. The third, Lumpy, stayed with Peter.

Backing up into the center of the dome, Peter sat down heavily, his whole body shaking. Lumpy plopped onto the dirt beside him and curled up in a way that kept Peter nestled in the center of Lumpy’s body and tail. Peter set a trembling hand on Lumpy’s head and the dragon rumbled softly before huffing out a breath and nuzzling closer.

Shiklah’s roar called from a distance and echoed in an odd way as it reached the dome. The dragons chirped and shuffled around. Lumpy tilted his head further into Peter’s lap. Peter ran his hands over Lumpy’s rough hide both to calm the dragon and himself.

“We’re okay,” Peter whispered. “We’re safe in here.”

Thankfully, Peter’s soothing words kept the young and easily agitated dragons calm. It wasn’t the safest place for Peter to be, trapped in a cage with untrained and terrified paeyo. But considering his previous options, he would chose the danger he knew rather than the ones he didn’t.

 

~*~

 

Wade was focused on the aftermath of the battle. He was getting reports of those that were fallen, how much of the city was damaged, and helping to organize a group that was checking for the paeyo’s lethal spit so it could be neutralized wherever it had landed. The city would be under caution until the next rain just in case any was missed.

The rider from Ostor had been taken to the temple to see to her wounds. The exhausted dragon she had ridden was under watch as it was not faring well after running for so long. They’d both be lucky to survive the night, but the best people Wade could assign were watching over them. He needed no more Ostor casualties on his hands.

Criers were going through sections of the city and giving the all clear once things were cleaned up. Citizens capable of helping, were sent to the next section to speed up the process and get the city moving again. Shiklah and Wade spent a good deal of time moving the dead paeyo out to the edges of the city to be dealt with later.

The sun was setting by the time Wade was able to send Shiklah back to the mountain and make his way to the temple. Ellie spotted him a good distance away and ran to him with a mix of relief and false bravado. He scooped her into his arms and held her tight, taking comfort in the fact that she was okay.

“Is everything alright?” she asked, worry filling her voice. He wasn’t surprised. It was the biggest attack the city had seen in years, along with the longest cleanup. Everyone in the temple must have been worried about the time it had taken to hear an all clear.

“It’s fine,” Wade reassured. “We have five men injured, but they’re strong and they’ll pull through.”

“But where’s Peter?”

Wade felt his entire body go numb and the breath freeze in his lungs. It took him a few moments to get control of himself once more. He set Ellie down, looking at her with the desperate hope that he’d misunderstood. “What do mean? He’s in the temple.”

She shook her head, eyes tearing up. “Nobody’s seen him!”

It was instantly a manhunt. Wade was pulling everyone he could to find information on where Peter was. One of the injured guards reported his story of finding Peter cornered and afterwards running west but being separated. A young girl with a bandaged arm saw Wade out in the streets and ran up to him in tears, throwing herself to the ground at his feet.

“It’s my fault! He stopped to help me with the karusson when the handler abandoned them! He saved my life!”

Wade fought off a mix of emotions as he stared. Peter would be mad if Wade took out any of his fear and anger on her. Still, he wasn’t a good person. At least, nothing like on Peter’s level. He turned to a guard beside him.

“Find out who she apprentices under. Have someone else take over their position. I want the handler serving ten years of indentured service.” Both the guard and the girl gaped at Wade in shock, but knew better than to say anything. Peter’s disappointed voice echoed in the back of Wade’s mind. He growled at it, but eventually said, “Fine. Two years.”

He stormed off, continuing to demand information from anyone he saw on the west side of the city. There were still a few fliers overheard, but none of them were seeing anything to report. It was as if Peter had somehow vanished.

As Wade stalked through the streets, many people darted out of his way. He must have had a look of murderous intent. That made sense. Anger boiled through his body and the target of his anger fell on multiple people. The rider from Ostor, Chief Nathan for sending riders off schedule in the first place, the handler who had abandoned the karusson, the trainee who stayed with the stable, all of the people that hadn’t stopped to help them, all of those locked in houses that hadn’t pulled Peter to safety one way or another…

And, of course, Peter himself. Peter, for being such an idiotic selfless hero that he couldn’t just run to safety like he’d been told to. It had been a simple order. There was plenty of time for him to make it to his destination. Ellie had been waiting on him!

But the anger was just there to burn away Wade’s true emotions — cold, painful, mind numbing fear.

“—with single minded focus, as if it was chasing something.”

Wade stopped walking and turned towards the voice. It was a civilian talking to one of the guards. He stalked over. “What was chasing something?”

“The dead paeyo with the broken leg,” the guard filled in.

“The one we found near the cage?”

The civilian nodded. “It ran right to it.”

“It was probably trying to attack the ones inside. Makes sense to go after the next generation during a territory battle.” The guard shrugged.

Wade thought back to when he’d went to grab that paeyo. “They weren’t in the cage…” They usually were, agitated and coughing at everyone and everything, attacking dust clouds just to get it out of their system. He had thought they’d hidden because of Shiklah, but what if that wasn’t the case?

Running over to the nearest house, he jumped up on the low wall surrounding it and used that to leap onto a window ledge and haul himself up atop the building. He jumped a few more until he found one that took him up another level, giving him a clear view of the cage. Streaks of deep orange sunlight reflected off the metal, particularly the spikes of the portcullis that was raised enough for a body to barely fit under.

Wade whistled as loud as he could for those still in the air and took off running, hopping from building to building as he focused on his destination.

 

~*~

 

Peter couldn’t hear anything from inside the dome. It was dark and he couldn’t well guess what time it was either. It was as if he was suspended in a pocket of tense anticipation, each breath feeling like an eternity. He wanted to go check and see if things were safe, but what if they weren’t? That meant agitating the other dragons and hoping he could calm them back down and get them to obey orders twice. It also meant calling attention to himself. How many wild paeyo would it take to force the gate open?

So Peter sat, frozen with indecision and stiff with anxiety. He thought about everyone he knew and wondered if they were okay. Had Ellie made it to a shelter? Had Wade been knocked off his dragon? Had Aleksei been sprayed with lethal dragon spit?

Lumpy stayed as a constant weight against Peter, occasionally shuffling around and demanding that Peter’s mindlessly moving hands pet a new spot. The other two dragons occasionally shuffled around and made agitated noises. Peter wondered how long ago they had been fed. What happened when they got hungry? Peter was the easiest meal within reach — soft flesh, nowhere to run to, too worn out to fight…

The air was too heavy and hot to breathe. Peter’s body ached. His mind kept playing scene after scene of the people he’d come to care about dying in ever creative ways. Perhaps he was cursed. This was what happened to people that tied themselves to Peter — they died. What did that mean for the country he was in? Would he just end up failing everyone?

Again.

Metal clanged and all four of them flinched at the sound. The dragons were on their feet in an instant, wings spread and head down, mouths open to bear their teeth. Peter stood up carefully, he body stiff and sore. He squared himself and focused on the entrance to the dome. Was it the wild paeyo? Had it finally found a way to force the gate up enough to crawl inside?

Peter’s heart felt ready to beat out of his chest. Lumpy’s tail trashed angrily. The dragon to Peter’s right made a hissing noise as it began to breathe hard. The sounds of dripping water hitting dirt lay under it all as all three of them began to drool on instinct.

Something moved into view, but it wasn’t an aggressive dragon, it was a person. The three paeyo shrieked anyways, letting the stranger know that their home was not to be invaded. The person stood still just outside the entrance, looking as non-threatening as possible. The sun backlit them harshly, making them nothing more than a dark silhouette whose features couldn’t be determined.

“Peter? Please tell me you’re in there.”

The sound of Wade’s voice sent a tidal wave of relief through Peter. He choked back a sob and swallowed hard to clear his voice. He couldn’t go running to Wade. That would set the young dragons off and make them attack. Taking a steady, shaking breath, Peter managed to get the whistle out for _hold position_ on the second try.

The dragons grumbled, but their posture relaxed some. Peter walked forward slowly, head high and shoulders back. He had to maintain a pose that said he was powerful and confident and that he wasn’t afraid. It was a lie, but maintaining that posture helped trick himself into believing it long enough to walk forward without fear of being attacked from behind.

An eternity passed before he reached the archway and squinted into the harsh light of the setting sun. How long had he been in there? A warm, familiar hand wrapped itself around his, and it was the single most bolstering thing Peter had felt in his life.

“Walk slowly until we’re out of the cage,” Wade said, voice strained with false calm.

Peter nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Five others stood with spears in front of the entrance to the dome, not taking any chances. Wade led Peter out of the cage to where a trained paeyo stood ready to dart in as backup for the others. It was overkill for three small, terrified dragons, but Peter wasn’t about to complain.

The moment they were free of the portcullis, Wade turned and wrapped Peter in his arms in a hug so tight Peter’s bones creaked. Peter returned it in kind. He was shaking and he felt sick, but for the first time in nearly half a day, he felt safe. Wade cried, as expected, and Peter felt the moisture trail down his neck to soak into his robes.

“I was so scared.” Wade’s voice was soft, rough, and exhausted. It was filled with more anguish than Peter had ever heard from him before.

“Me too…” Peter swallowed hard and clenched his eyes shut against the prickling threat of tears. “Is Ellie—”

“She’s fine. No casualties anywhere.”

Peter shivered as he let out his breath in one giant huff. Nobody had died. His presence had perhaps cursed the city, but they were survivors. They had made it through. Peter wasn’t helplessly watching those around him be taken away anymore.

“Can we go home?” Peter whispered.

Wade pressed a long kiss to Peter’s temple. “Yes. Let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm late! Sorry. Last week was hella stressful for me and I didn't get a lot of writing done. I kicked my ass over the weekend to try and get this down and clean it up. I've been excited about writing this chapter for a whiiiiile! I hope you guys liked it!


	25. Defined by Our Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't get this beta read prior to posting because I live life on the edge.
> 
> I meant to get this finished by Saturday to reset my weekly schedule on that day, but alas, I lost 4 days of my life. And not to any good reason. It's just because I obsessively binge read the entire Captive Prince trilogy in that time. Anywho. Those are good books. I recommend. Obviously.
> 
> So I guess Tuesday is my new posting day since next chapter will def not get done early. Actually, since I haven't even _started_ my Big Bang fic, I might be late again as I frantically try to catch up. So if I'm late, we all know why. @.@

Wade had ordered the bath heated up so that Peter could soak his aching and exhausted limbs. In the meantime, Wade dealt with further orders about the city, clean up, and discussions concerning the rider from Ostor, all while feeding Peter who was too tired to complain. Wade spent a ridiculous amount of time in the bath afterwards pampering Peter and rubbing the soreness from his limbs.

Still, despite the exhausting day and the lavish treatment, Peter’s mind wouldn’t settle down. He was physically worn out, but his anxiety was getting away from him. He sat at the edge of the bed, wrapped in the quilt, and watched as Wade coated his skin in a thin layer of oil. There were no new wounds or bruises. Peter knew because he’d been obsessively looking for them since the moment Wade stripped off his clothes.

“Like what you see?” Wade teased when he caught Peter’s intense gaze.

“Yes.” Peter was too tired to put any inflection on it, just left it as the true and simple statement that it was.

Wade was immediately affected, his cock twitching and his eyes growing wide. “Are you feeling well?”

Peter stared at Wade for a long moment. “No.” He stood up and let the blanket fall from his shoulders to pool around his feet. He was still nude, skin soft and fragrant from the bath. Wade’s eyes roamed with no small amount of lust.

“What can I do?” Wade asked, trying hard to hold onto his self control.

“I want to be worn out. I want my mind to go blank. I want to be so sated that all I can do is sleep. I want to feel… good.”

Wade walked forward and his hands slid along Peter’s sides, reverently trailing over all the skin he loved and worshiped so much. He bent his head forward and left a trail of kisses down Peter’s neck. “You want me to ride you?”

“No…” Peter slid his hands up Wade’s neck, going slowly, feeling the change in the skin’s texture as he moved along each swirl of scar tissue. “I want to feel you inside of me.”

That caused Wade to freeze in shock. Peter wasn’t surprised. He’d never really asked for that since the bonding ceremony, and Wade hadn’t pushed the issue. Peter had been toying with the thought for some time, but was always too nervous to bring it up. The memory of how deeply satisfied he’d felt when it happened and how mind numbing the whole process had been nagged at Peter. He wanted to feel that again. He wanted to not be able to _think_ anymore. At least for a long enough to sleep.

“Are you sure?” Wade pulled back, his face a mixture of concern, lust, and hope. “You’re already pretty sore…”

Peter didn’t want to hear Wade’s reservations. He just wanted to be driven out of his mind, only able to think about pleasure and his desire for release. Peter lifted up and kissed Wade, long and deep, hands trailing across the sensitive planes of Wade’s skin. Only when the press of Wade’s hard cock was digging into his hip did Peter pull back.

“Please.”

That one word was all it took to break Wade’s tenuous restraint. He lifted Peter into the air and set him on the bed in one fluid motion, crawling up after in order to ravage Peter’s skin with lips and teeth. Peter sank into it, his exhaustion making his movements slow and his body lax. He was able to lay there with no resistance as Wade worshiped Peter’s body to his heart’s desire without the worry of Peter’s self-consciousness batting him away.

Wade worked slowly, building Peter’s arousal like one trying to start a fire, from weak smoking embers, to kindling, to logs steadily blazing brighter. It burned inside of Peter in the same way, waves of heat spreading across his skin again and again. It left him twisting in the sheets, grasping at Wade’s skin, struggling for breath.

The warm, wet heat of Wade’s mouth on his cock was almost too much and Peter bucked at the feeling of it, a strangled noise on his lips. Wade pressed down on Peter’s hips so that he could work his lips at a steady pace. Peter quivered, his mind nothing but bursts of light, pleasure coiling tight in his belly.

It was at that point that Wade slid an oiled finger inside. It stretched pleasure lax muscles and the burn of it was lost in the white hot heat of Peter’s body. But the finger made its presence known and nervousness pulled Peter back from the edge. He remembered how careful Wade had been previously, how good it had felt, but there was still something so fundamentally strange about hard movement in such a place.

A second finger slid in and before Peter could focus too much on it, Wade’s mouth went from languid teasing to focused intent. The things that Wade did with mouth and tongue was by and far unbefitting in a man of his station. Peter couldn’t find it in himself to mind at the moment. There was pressure inside of him, suction on his cock, and a tongue doing mind shattering tricks to the head.

“Wade.” Fingers were moving around, stretching him, their oddness drowned in waves of pleasure. “ _Wade_.” The tension in his belly coiled painfully tight, sucking the air from him, locking his muscles. “I—!” was all he got out before he was coming into Wade’s mouth. Wade, who sucked down every drop like it was some kind of delicacy.

Of all things, that thought had Peter blushing as he spiraled down from his high. He looked down to see Wade’s lips slide off with a wet pop before spreading out into a grin.

“My turn.”

Peter was rolled to his stomach, a cushion shoved under his hips to keep them propped. It was so soon after climax that Peter was still boneless and mind fogged. His languid body didn’t resist the first press of Wade’s cock at his entrance. His nervousness spiked after, but Wade was already inside, a burning stretch filtering through the haze of afterglow.

Then there was enough of Wade inside for Peter to feel something else. He whined and gripped the sheets in balled up fists, the sensation extreme so close to his previous release. It sent jolts of pleasure, almost painful in their strength, through his belly, up his spine, and down his limbs. Peter tried to spread his legs more, get his knees under him, anything to relieve the intensity of the pressure.

“Shhhh,” Wade soothed and pulled Peter’s legs back into their previously reclined position. The weight of Wade’s body dropped over Peter, keeping him pressed into the mattress. “Just relax. Breath through it.”

Doing as he was told, Peter took in a deep breath and let it out slow. His body adjusted to the intrusion, the pressure didn’t make him feel ready to pop, though his cock throbbed with the residual feeling of it. Soothing hands brushed through Peter’s hair until he relaxed once more.

“I’m going to go slow,” Wade murmured.

And he did. A shallow, unhurried rocking of his hips that dragged along Peter’s insides in a manner that was at first strange and overwhelming but resolved into steady, radiating pleasure. Peter’s breathing was shallow as his body rocked in time to Wade’s. His eyelids fluttered. His toes curled.

It was different than the first time. Even though they’d had the entire night during the bonding ceremony, it had somehow felt rushed. Now, it felt like they had all the time in the world. Wade wasn’t in a hurry to find his release. He wasn’t pent up and desperate to make Peter his. Peter was already his, happy and content with that fact.

Peter couldn’t say how long is lasted, that lazy movement between them. They lost themselves in it. Wade kissed all the skin he could, ran his hands along Peters arms and entwined their fingers, whispered soft, sweet things into the quiet of the room. Peter lost himself in unending waves of pleasure, filling him up and emptying him of all thought but their joined bodies.

A second climax washed over Peter like a gentle rain, suffusing him with languor. Tears pricked at his eyes when Wade kept moving, extending the feeling of pleasure to constant bursts of it until his legs were trembling and his breathing harsh. Eventually, Wade spilled inside of Peter and went still, holding them close until they felt made to fit together like that forever.

At some point during that peaceful moment, lost in the sensations of their tandem bodies, Peter fell into a dreamless sleep.

 

~*~

 

The rider from Ostor was in a small one room building near the temple. Outside of the building was a pen that held the dragon. They’d had to move the rider to the new location so that her dragon could smell her and stop panicking at her disappearance after the attack.

The dragon itself was very unlike the others Peter had seen. It was about the size of a paeyo, but bulkier and with wide spread legs. It looked like a winged lizard that was big enough to ride. Its body was nobbed with little bumps of thick skin, but otherwise unadorned by anything like armor or horns. It’s eyes were bright and focused on those walking up to the building with cold, murderous intent.

When they came close to the entrance, it opened its wide jaws, revealing two rows of tiny, sharp teeth like a serrated blade. Thick ropes of spits clung from the roof of its mouth, to its thin, writhing tongue. It hissed in a way that sent a shiver of fear up Peter’s back.

“It’s wings don’t look big enough,” Peter blurted, trying not to show how creeped out he was by the dragon.

“K'vishna don’t fly,” Wade confirmed. “They live in the canyons, so they just need those giant claws of theirs to climb up and then they glide back down. They walk deceptively slow. Get them attacking and they’re faster than your eye can track.”

That didn’t make Peter feel any better. “Is it safe in just… that?” He pointedly looked at the low wall that was the only thing keeping the dragon contained.

“Don’t worry, he’s posturing because he’s injured. K'vishna prefer to claim a spot and stay there until they heal. The upside is that they don’t need to feed as often. Come on.” Wade made his way into the squat stone building, and Peter followed.

Inside was a priestess with medical training, a guard by the door, and the rider from Ostor bandaged and lying on a cot. She seemed to be having a hard time focusing on the newcomers. Peter wondered how bad the damage was under the dressings and linen sheet that covered her.

Wade grabbed a stool from the corner and placed it by the bed so he could sit closer to her. She tried to greet him with his title but he held up a hand to stop her. “Don’t worry about it. I need your strength elsewhere.” He gave her a small encouraging smile as she settled back down.

Taking a breath and leaning his forearms onto his knees, Wade set his face to more serious lines. “We weren’t able to recover the packs or the other riders. I’m sorry for your loss.”

Her eyes closed for a moment and she just breathed. Wade gave her that time and waited until she looked at him once more, a little more determination in her gaze.

“Do you know what the missives contained that you were supposed to deliver?”

A deep, concentrated breath and then, “Yes.” Her voice was weak and raspy, but she made an effort to be clear. “A demand and a warning.”

Wade didn’t look all that surprised to hear it. “Can you give me the short version?”

“Chief Nathan Summers of Ostor demands explanation for the creation of a trade route…” She coughed and swallowed before valiantly continuing. “—that could affect Kocrax as a whole without allowing the other provinces… to discuss… and negotiate…”

The priestess walked over and helped the woman drink something. After a few moments of quiet recovery, the rider’s eyes opened once more, the pupils dilated and unfocused. It must have been something to help with the pain. Peter fidgeted where he stood, impatient to hear all that the messenger knew, but also highly concerned about her failing health.

“And the warning?” Wade asked, anxious as Peter to know how angry Chief Summers was.

“Chief Neena Thurman of Dowhea knows. She has determined your choice to ally… with the enemy nations… a declaration of war.” She looked up at Wade with all the focus she could gather. “She rides for Whaytho.”

The room was silent with shock, not that Peter could have heard it. His ears were ringing and the ground felt as if it had dropped from under his feet. He attempted to breath despite the tightness in his chest and the numbness spreading through his body.

War.

Dowhea was planning on waging war with Swujan.

Memories crashed into Peter of the Forty Year War that took away everything. Blood, terror, and death flashed across his vision. Aunt May’s weight pressing him into the cart as Peter screamed, watching his uncle die. Gwen’s lifeless body being placed in a mass grave. Peter’s home being overrun and looted by enemy soldiers.

Peter ran from the room and into the late morning air, but still he couldn’t breathe. His legs trembled, threatening to give out. His stomach flipped. He collapsed heavily against the wall of a building he could barely see and heaved the contents of his stomach onto the sandstone road.

It was going to happen again. It was all going to happen again and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

And it was all his fault.

 

~*~

 

Wade walked into his rooms to see Peter on the balcony, staring at the mountains in the distance without actually seeing them. He’d been like that for a while, quiet and turned inwards. Everyone was in a bit of a panic after the news of Chief Neena’s plans. Wade had spent a good deal of time running around barking orders and calling an emergency meeting with the council.

Peter hadn’t attended.

Everyone had thought it odd, but Wade had to remind himself and others that Peter had lost everything to a war once. He was likely trapped in the past. As much as Wade wanted to do nothing but hold his wife, he couldn’t. He had preparations to handle. But now, in the fading light of day with nothing more to be done until morning, Wade could finally approach Peter.

The late summer air was still balmy, only a slight breeze fluttering across the balcony. Wade walked up but kept a few paces of distance, not sure how much space Peter did or didn’t need. Not really knowing what to say, Wade asked, “Are you alright?”

Peter took a shuddering breath, his shoulders rising with tension. “This is all my fault.”

“No! How is any of this—”

Peter whipped around. “Don’t you get it? I’m the foreigner whispering ideas in your ear.”

“That’s not—”

“It doesn’t matter what the truth is! That’s what people think. They all said it during the tour of the cities. The only difference is that in Swujan, they can’t argue your decision. Dowhea can!”

“And you convinced the cities that trade was best, which was a plan that would have happened with or without you. They would have come up with something else to blame it on in that case. This isn’t your fault!”

Had Peter really been blaming himself the whole time? Sure, there would always be those stubborn to change, but the plan had always been to find new avenues for trade. Eventually, the council may have decided to contact Cethad on their own, Peter just made it clear that it could be done far sooner. Further, Peter had made sure the negotiations were better phrased.

“I convinced only a handful of people that trade was a better option,” Peter argued. “All I did was get a crowd of people manic and give them reason to talk about me, letting that information spread to the other provinces.” He crossed his arms over his chest, fingers digging into his own flesh. “And now they’re going to blame me for the war. They have every right to.”

“We don’t know that there’s going to be a war.” And they didn’t. Chief Neena was level headed and understood the financial burden of war. She also knew what taking on a province in the midst of a food crisis would do to her own supplies. She was bound by the expectations of her people, but she wasn’t blinded by them.

There was a chance that they could talk themselves out of the upcoming battle. Neena needed to posture, but Wade was counting on her practical side. War wasn’t completely off the table, but it wasn’t a guarantee. Peter would have known that had he been at the council meeting.

“You can’t assume that war won’t come for you!” Peter snapped, his voice leaning a bit hysterical. “If you aren’t prepared, then people will die!”

“We _are_ prepared!”

Peter closed his eyes and shook his head, breath coming fast. “People will die in front of you. So many people who have nowhere to run and only you to turn to for help, but there’s nothing you can do to stop it.”

“This isn’t like the past.” Wade tried for soothing and rational but was cut off before he could continue.

“You don’t understand! I’m cursed!” Peter’s eyes were a little wild as he looked up at Wade.

“What? Peter, no—”

“Everyone I care about dies!”

The pain in Peter’s voice had Wade’s chest clenching in sympathy. “That won’t—”

“It’s not just you and Ellie. Don’t you get it? I _care_ about this country. I’m _happy._ And it turned out I really am god cursed. I get to watch it all fall apart. _Again_.”

“You’re not cursed!” Wade took a step forward, anxious to snap Peter out of it, but Peter just took a step backwards in return.

“I am! How do explain everything if not for that? I’m ruining your life! I’m killing this country!”

Wade huffed in frustration. Rationality wasn’t going to get through to Peter. He was far too gone in his own head. So Wade needed to approach the issue from a different angle. “Fine! So you’re cursed.”

Peter flinched. Wade felt a little guilty. As much as Peter insisted on his own cursed status, it was another thing to have someone say it back. Wade took another step forward, but Peter stepped back again, getting close to the railing on the balcony.

“You’re cursed,” Wade repeated. “So what? Look around you. This is _Kocrax._ We can survive a curse. I don’t care what falls on us, we survive. It’s what we’ve always done. You think a people who live with dragons are going to fold over a little something like this? The gods test us all the time, it’s nothing new. We’ll make it through anything. We always have.”

“But—”

“I survived famine. I survived in the mountains. I survived wyverns trying to eat me and light me on fire. I survived on the front lines of a war in another country. I’m not going down that easy.”

“Don’t you resent me?” Peter’s voice was wounded and vulnerable.

“You resent yourself far more than anyone should already.”

Peter looked away, his shoulders trembling. “I can’t… I’ve already…”

“You don’t have to hold it all in.” Wade walked forward without stopping, and Peter ran into the railing, having nowhere left to run. “I understand why you’re upset, but why are you keeping it all locked away inside so it can rip you apart?”

“I’m stronger than my emotions!” Peter snapped, anger sparking in his eyes even as he jerked when Wade’s hands landed on his shoulders.

“It has nothing to do with strength. I know you’re strong. Acknowledging your grief and fear doesn’t weaken you.” Wade pulled Peter’s stiff body against his own, wrapping his arms around the slim, trembling frame and squeezing tight. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Are the gods testing me?” Peter asked, voice high but muffled by Wade’s chest. “Or is this just life taking a shit on me again?”

“You’ll survive this.”

“I don’t want to _survive_! I want to just live my life! Have I not been tested enough? Have I not lost so much already? Have I—” Peter broke off with a sob and his body shook hard as he tried to contain it.

Wade rubbed soothingly up and down Peter’s back. “You deserved none of what happened to you. You’re the best person I’ve ever met. And no matter what happens, you won’t be losing anyone again. I promise.”

Another sob broke free, sounding painful and choked. Then another, riding on a wave of a shouted curse. And then Peter was crying, fully and completely, and likely for the first time in too many years. Wade held Peter close, rocked him through the pain and the release. It would do him good to have his tears wash away some of the torment he held so deep inside.

“There you go. Let it out,” Wade murmured. “It’s going to be alright. I promise.”

In the fading light of day, Wade made a promise to the gods that he would protect Peter from ever experiencing another tragedy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> K'vishna are giant komodo dragons with wings, essentially. I find komodo dragons to be particularly creepy. XD
> 
> Peter needed a good cry. Also, I really like making Peter cry because I'm an evil person. You're welcome.
> 
> I was reminded in a writing panel at con that a hero should have a peek and then get kicked down a few notches prior to the actual climax of the story. That lesson (along with some political inspiration from Captive Prince, ngl) really helped solidify the next plot points I needed to hit. So hopefully this will be smooth sailing for me now. Let's cross our fingers on that.
> 
> I should really not still be awake at 5am. I hope I haven't written anything weird. ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ


	26. Enter Dowhea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Scribes are the equivalent of gentry in other nations.
> 
> I have re-written this SO MANY TIMES because I'm too hard on myself. Anyways. Just take it. T.T I'm sorry it's so late.

Gyumorin were colorful. That was the first thing Wade always thought of the sea faring dragons of Dowhea. They were rippling shades of blue, green, and white to match the ocean. They looked out of place as they landed on the dry brown earth to the east of Whaytho. The wings of the giant flight rumbled like constant thunder, the sizes of the dragons ranging from no more than a handful to the biggest matching Shiklah in size. Neena rode that one.

Surrounding the enormous dragon were at least ten smaller dragons just barely capable of holding a rider, though they were all flying without one. That meant all of them were under Neena’s control. It was a flashy show of strength, proving her leadership skills with the ability to command so many dragons of that size at once.

As they landed, Wade noticed a more dragons about the size of dogs clinging to the backs of the ten Neena called her own. That brought her dragon count up to nearly thirty. She had full rights to use all of them if she wanted to take part in a duel. Shiklah made an unhappy rumble, echoing Wade’s own feelings about the situation.

Neena had a waist harness attached to the large spines that trailed down the back of her dragon. She was standing up, feet braced on her dragon’s back, body facing the row of spikes, face turned to the side to where the dragon’s head was. In her hands was a bow, arrow notched but not drawn. It was complete overkill.

Wade sat on Shiklah, Peter riding behind him. Ellie was to their right. She sat confident on her horse, her own wyvern muzzled and leashed to the ground with a large spike. He was restless and not trained enough to follow exact commands, but he would be more than happy to fight if set free. That was a power move on their part, showing that Ellie was confident enough to bring out a wyvern barely big enough ride simply because it was hers and she was the heir.

Around them sat almost every guard and paeyo from Whaytho. It was a massive force. Even the trainees were there at the back, spears and crossbows at the ready. They outnumbered Neena in persons, but with her force of agile and venomous dragons, it would be an even match.

Neither Wade nor Neena wanted to lose that many fighters, so they were meeting a good distance from the city, everyone grounding their dragons and squaring off with a decent amount of space between them. The gyumorin whistled high and loud, a chorus of shrill warnings. The paeyo shrieked in return, turning the landscape into a deafening cacophony until the dragons settled down once more.

There was a tense moment where nobody moved, each side waiting to see if the armistice was going to be broken. The dragons all shuffled around restlessly and the horses stomped at the ground. Everyone held their breath. At last, Neena shouldered her bow, unhooked her belt, and slid from her dragon’s back.

“Let’s go,” Wade said. Shiklah wasn’t happy about the two of them leaving her side when facing off against so many intruders, but she stayed still. Ellie’s dragon roared when she dismounted from her horse, bits of fire licked up around the straining metal of the muzzle. Aleksei hopped down from his paeyo as well, taking up position behind Wade and Peter.

Ahead of them, Neena was pulling people around her. Six of them were ready, but seeing Wade’s numbers, she signaled two to stay back. They stode forward and Wade’s group started walking to meet them in the middle with even numbers. Anxious energy rippled across Wade’s skin. A fight he could handle, he was always prepared for that. However, a battle of words wasn’t his forte, but it _was_ Neena’s. She had the upper hand.

They stopped just out of range for any close quarter attacks, pausing to assess one another. Everyone had weapons on them, but none were drawn. A bright sliver of blue moved around Neena’s hair before a tiny dragon head the size of Wade’s thumb peeked out and whistled at them with an ear-piercing threat. The smaller the gyumorin, the more potent their venom, so Wade counted it as a weapon as well.

“Wade.” Neena smirked and propped a hand on her hip.

“Neena.” Wade gave a small nod. “You’ve brought quite the entourage for a visit.”

“Cute. Let’s not fly around the nest and get to the point of my _visit._ Namely, the insult you’ve thrown to this country and its people.”

“My goal has always been to serve and protect this country, including all dragons and citizens in it.”

Her eyes flicked over to Peter, looking up and down in an assessing way. She didn’t seem pleased with what she saw. “You think I’m deaf? Your little pet here spouts grand speeches about conforming to the whims of other countries in every city he visits. Of course it’s going to get back to me. Me and everyone else in this damn country.” She looked back at Wade. “You’re an idiot.”

“Trade is a necessity for Swujan at the moment.” Wade tried to stay calm and confident, though he felt anything but. He excelled at saying the wrong thing, and Neena excelled at trapping him in it.

“So I’ve heard.” She made a face. “Your people are flooding my cities. Everyone’s on the brink of starvation. Can’t say I’m surprised. How many generations has a _man_ been in power?”

Wade gave a tight smile and gestured lightly at Ellie. “Mine would be the last one.”

“The only good thing you’ve done so far.”

 _Don’t let her bait you. Don’t let her bait you,_ Wade chanted to himself. “Look, the neither of us want a war—”

“Is that so? Yet you ran off to fight in one that wasn’t yours the moment you won chief. You seem thirsty for battle.” She cocked an eyebrow.

“That was a tactical move,” Wade countered. He couldn’t go into detail, not yet. The less he said now, the better. “Everything that’s been done has been for the future of my people.”

Neena looked back over at Peter. “I heard rumor you were aiming for a foreign wife and brought back, of all things, a man.” She gave Wade a _look._ “How intimidated by women are you?”

“Not very, considering you knew my late wife.” Wade put all of his displeasure about the conversation into his voice.

Neena paused and her face smoothed out to something a little more respectful. “She was a strong woman. I meant no dishonor on her memory. We are weaker as a nation for her loss.” It was a very formal statement, but Neena never used such things lightly, so it was guaranteed to be genuine.

“My concern,” Neena continued, “is that you would weaken us further.” She jerked her head at Peter. “He is a spy here to corrupt us from within.”

“I would never!” Peter snapped, his patience reaching a limit. “I am here to aid this country!”

Neena held up her hand. “I’m not here to listen to one of your manipulative speeches. You have nothing to gain from helping us and everything to gain from destroying our nation and seeing it overrun by pillaging foreigners.”

Peter opened his mouth to argue, but the tiny gyumorin shrilled a whistle too loud to hear anything over. Before things could escalate further, Ellie took a step forward. “There’s a lot that needs to be discussed so that you can be well informed.”

Neena looked at Ellie with respect due to an equal, though that courtesy was extended to no one else. “You wish to call for a Meeting of Chiefs.” It wasn’t a question.

“I do,” Ellie agreed. “Do you have your scribes with you?”

A Meeting of Chiefs wasn’t to be taken lightly. It required a lot of discussion and each person taking part in the meeting was allowed a small group of scribes who could accurately inform everyone of their knowledge about city and province affairs. Wade’s council was under the guise of his scribes, as everyone assumed he was informed by them and then dictated his orders to them, not that they debated with equal voice about what should be done.

If Neena had brought her choice scribes with her, then it meant she was prepared to discuss rather than fly into a war neither of them needed at the moment. Wade was banking on Neena being level headed enough for that. After all, that was what she always preached that women were: more rational and level headed. In Dowhea, only women held positions of power.

“Aren’t I lucky that my scribes are great warriors and here with me today?” Neena smirked and something in Wade relaxed a tiny bit.

“Then you, my father, and I will convene,” Ellie said.

“I agreed.” Neena then sneered at Peter. “I will not see him in attendance.”

“As my wife, he has rights to be at a Meeting,” Wade argued. They needed Peter there. He was far more knowledgeable in foreign affairs for obvious reasons. Neena could dislike it all she wished, but Peter was invaluable when discussing their plans for trade alliances.

“He has a right if he can gather his own scribes, otherwise he would be speaking only for his own benefit and not those of who he lavishly announces that he represents.” She gave Wade a hard look before turning to address Peter. “And do you have any scribes of your own? Do you have any informants among the people who you so claim to care about? Is even a single one of them a woman? Of course not. Your foreign values have taught you that our people, and women in general, are worth nothing of value in your eyes.”

Peter’s fists clenched and he shook with barely contained rage. “You make a lot of assumptions to my character considering that is what you’re accusing me of doing to others.”

Neena scoffed before looking back at Ellie. “We will meet in time to share supper. Prepare a tent.” She turned to Peter. “Should you so miraculously have scribes to attend you, then feel free to join us.”

Having said all she wanted, Neena turned and walked off, her entourage trailing after her. Wade turned as well, taking Peter’s hand as they walked away. Aleksei sighed like he was already exhausted, and Ellie looked deep in thought as she glanced between Wade and Peter.

“What are we going to do about Peter not attending?” she finally asked.

Before Wade could say anything, Peter jumped in, face set in hard but determined lines. “I’ll be there.” He looked over at Ellie. “I need to borrow your horse.”

Ellie grinned, happily agreeing. Wade was concerned. “What’s your plan?”

Peter shook his head and squeezed Wade’s hand. “Focus on what you need to. I’ll take care of things on my end.”

Not long after, Peter was riding hard for the city with Aleksei following after as his only guard. Wade didn’t know what his wife was plotting, but he trusted Peter. In the meantime, they had a lot to do. Taking a deep breath, Wade turned to his men and started barking orders.

 

~*~

 

The guards of Whaytho had returned to the city, though they all stayed on alert. The gyumorin were moved farther away in return, the troop finding a place to set up camp for the night. The spacious tent for the Meeting of Chiefs was set closer to the palace, but still remained on the east side of the river. The bright swaths of cloth fluttered gently in the breeze.

Surrounding the tent were guards of both Swujan and Dowhea, along with a handful of Priestesses there to maintain the peace. They stood a good distance away from the tent so that eavesdropping would be impossible even if those inside started yelling (which was always a possibility). Inside the tent, settled among the strewn pillows and low tables laden with food and drink, were only those invited to the meeting. The servants had long since left.

Neena sat in one corner, eight scribes sitting around her, armed with stacks of parchment. That, more than anything, helped to settle everyone in the room. Though it was never said in so many words, it meant Neena had come prepared to talk, her force of dragons merely a formality to appease her people. Wade felt it was easier to breathe with that knowledge.

Wade, in his own corner, was surrounded by his council. They also came prepared with massive amounts of paperwork bundled around them. The only members missing from Wade’s side were the Queen Mother and the High Priestess, but only because they sat with Ellie. In a move to prove herself worthy of being listened to, Ellie sat proud with both of the strongest women in the city at her side. She also had her grandmother and three other elder women with her, proving that she respected the wise knowledge of those that had seen the changes of the city for so many years.

Neena sipped at her drink as she eyed the empty corner left. “It seems your wife failed to have anyone represent his interests.”

“He’ll be here,” Wade said, crossing his arms. They still had time, but worry nagged at him. What exactly did Peter have planned?

Wade blamed himself. He’d kept Peter too close to him and involved as part of his own council. Peter hadn’t had an opportunity to connect with people. Part of that had been for safety reasons, but much of it was Wade’s fear. Keeping Peter insular in the palace meant keeping him at Wade’s side. Perhaps in the short term, that seemed like a good way to help transition Peter to his new life, but they’d been abruptly informed of how weak that made him appear.

“We can start without him,” Neena pushed. “It’s not as if he’d have anything to contribute other than harmful foreign lies.”

Wade tried to maintain his calm but was failing. “I’m real tired of you spewing shit about my wife.”

Neena laughed, completely unrepentant. Her scribes looked just as amused. Wade’s council remained silent, knowing that defending Peter wasn’t going to help Neena’s opinion of their decisions, but also understanding how valuable Peter had been so far. It was a delicate situation. Wade gulped down a glass of wine in hopes it would help settle his nerves. Meetings like this were by and far the thing he hated most about being chief.

Times like these almost made him miss the mountains. At least life was simpler there. Find food, find shelter, survive, try to help Rocky the boulder find a date. All he had to do was keep moving and trust in his own body to survive. None of this sitting at tables, desperately trying to understand the piles of statistics and reports being thrown at him, and hoping that he doesn’t unknowingly hang himself with his own words.

There was whistle from outside, signaling riders. Both Wade and his council relaxed some. The only person brave enough to approach a Meeting of Chiefs would be someone invited. That meant it was Peter. Curiosity plagued Wade as to what Peter had accomplished. Neena frowned and drank more wine, but said nothing of it. They all waited in tense silence for the final group to join them.

When at last it felt like Wade was about to explode from anticipation, the tent flap rustled aside and in walked Peter, shoulders back and head high, radiating confidence in his right to be there. It took everything Wade had not to gape at the people that filed in after him. Around Wade, the council all but stopped breathing, trying hard to hold their tongues in front of a potential enemy chief. Thankfully, Neena was too distracted to notice.

Everyone stared, at a loss for words, but the people around Peter seemed to be expecting that and stood firm. Neena was the first to speak. “And who are these that you’ve roped into this farce?”

“People of the city in need of a voice,” Peter said, his face set in hard lines. He waved his hand at each in turn as he introduced them. “Manuel, chosen speaker of the trade caravans. [Althea](http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Blind_Al_\(Althea\)_\(Earth-616\)), head elder of East Side.” Then Peter dropped his hand to a small child, skin twisted and bones prominent. “[Ernst](http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Ernst_\(Earth-616\)), speaker of the infirm and children too young to work.”

If that wasn’t noteworthy enough, Peter moved to introduce someone Wade had never expected to see again. “Daken, child of Q’otha, here to make his own statements on life there so that you are not dependent on my word alone.”

And to drive it all home, the most taboo of all, “And lastly, Felicia, speaker of the strays in Whaytho.”

There was a profound silence in the tent, as everyone’s focus shifted to the Dowhea group. There was a good chance that Peter’s chosen scribes could be seen as an insult. Many people saw them as such. However, Neena’s province was the richest in the country. With no immediate dangers to the health of her lands and citizens, she worked hard to make sure her people had a voice in order to take care of their concerns. It was what kept her in power. Wade and Peter had spent long nights discussing that while waiting on Neena to approach Whaytho.

It was a gamble. It was a _huge_ gamble. Peter had been right to keep silent about his plan. Wade wouldn’t have risked it. They needed to prove that they were strong. Wade had the backing of the richest and most influential people in the city as his scribes. Ellie had the backing of the wise and the most faithful. Neena had her most accomplished scribes and nomarks.

And there Peter stood, backed by the weak and voiceless. Wade was simultaneously proud and terrified.

The tense silence broke with Neena’s laughter. “Look at the tits on this man! You sure picked a wife with a backbone, Wade.” She leaned forward, grinning at Peter for the first time since laying eyes on him. “Sit, then! Eat. And whatever you do, don’t disappoint me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Peter easily returned.

So he and his mismatched group of scribes sat and filled their plates and cups, sharing a meal with the most powerful people in two provinces. When discussion started, they proved themselves to be just as brave as any citizen of Kocrax, not bothering to pull their punches when talking about the needs of those they represented. Neena respected that.

It was a long battle, and one that Peter could have easily navigated, but he held back. He knew better than anyone in the room that attempting to take control of the conversation, even if it would have made things faster and more precise, wouldn’t have been to their benefit. Instead, it would look as though he manipulated the voices of those around him. So Peter kept quiet and subtly urged the conversation where it needed to go, occasionally prompting the right people to speak.

Ultimately, Neena’s scribes were concerned about unfair advantage in favor of foreign nations. That easily could have been the case when trying to set up agreements with other countries when they had no basis of knowledge. Peter was what made all the difference. But Peter found ways to prove his reasoning by letting others give testimony to their experiences, particularly Manuel and Daken who were well versed now in the general market prices and the expectations of buyers.

At one point, Daken spoke at length about how each country's citizens could be exploited in different ways. He’d survived by doing so. Though it was small scale and did little to aid them in trade discussions, it helped to humanize other countries, showing their weaknesses and similarities. That in itself went a long way towards Dowhea believing that maintaining their autonomy during trade was possible.

It occurred to Wade that Peter had planned it that way. He knew nothing he said would hold that much weight. However, Daken, with his painful memories of being abused and abandoned by foreigners before finding a much needed home with Craxians, tugged at the nationalism of all in attendance. Kocrax saw itself as a point of sanity in a crazed world. Daken helped to prove what everyone wanted to hear.

Wade gazed at the composed and confident profile of his wife as Peter listened to the arguments of others and carefully encouraged the right people to speak in rebuttal. Peter was more than god-touched. He was a child of Sakit, that was for certain. Wade hadn’t done anything in his life to deserve such a person at his side, but he would strive to be worthy of it for the rest of his days.

As scribe [Sooraya](http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Sooraya_Qadir_\(Earth-616\)) from Dowhea and scribe Victor from Wade’s council battled it out over a food rationing debate, Wade leaned over to grab Peter’s hand, drag it to him, and press a kiss to the palm. Wide brown eyes locked with Wade’s in faint surprise. He grinned up at his wife, face full of joy.

“I love you.”

Peter’s face turned bright red and his breath stuttered. “Is now really a good time?” he hissed.

“Don’t worry, I intend on saying it often.”

“You’ll be the death of me,” Peter muttered, but his fingers squeezed Wade’s before they refocused on the argument, both returning to their spots. Peter guzzled wine to hide his face, and Wade floated on a cloud of delight. Neena watched them from the corner of her eye, but didn’t comment.

 

~*~

 

It was late at night when the meeting finally ended, a full moon and clear starry sky lighting the landscape. The Dowhea group were headed out to meet with their troop. Everyone else was saddling up to head back to the palace. All of the scribes had been invited to stay the night there as thanks for their time.

Daken was asleep, passed out on Manuel’s back. Ernst was much the same, cradled gently in Felicia’s arms. Peter had just finished thanking the ornery Althea for her time, seeing her onto a horse, when Felicia approached him.

“I’ll be honest,” she said, voice soft so she wouldn’t wake the child in her arms. “I didn’t think it was going to work.”

Peter let out a heavy sigh as he rubbed at a tense knot of muscle in his shoulder. “Me either.”

She grinned at him. “Every time you come to find me, you end up performing another kind of miracle. First, a work contract for the strays, now a stray speaking at a Meeting of Chiefs. I don’t think that’s ever been accomplished before.”

“It should have — long before now.”

“I agree.” Felicia stepped into his space and Peter tensed. Though he’d worked with Felicia multiple times by now, he was still never sure of her intent. She was a wild card that he struggled to read. She also _knew_ that and found it amusing, which was likely why that smirk was on her face. “I may have been wrong about you. Perhaps the two of us can become friends.”

“Uh…” Peter did his best to offer a polite smile. “I would like that.”

“Good.” In a move too fast for Peter to react to, she leaned in and dropped a soft peck of a kiss on his lips. She stepped back and winked at his stunned expression before walking off to a horse that had been prepared for her.

A heavy arm dropped around Peter’s shoulders and he flinched. “I think she likes you,” Wade said.

“Ah!” Peter cleared his throat nervously. “I wasn’t expecting her to kiss me.”

Wade grinned. “I can tell.”

“You aren’t… bothered?” Though logically Peter knew that Craxians were romantic with multiple partners, he had no idea what the customs were to navigate that. Not that he was expecting to end up in a relationship with Felicia! He had enough to worry about as it was.

“Why would I be bothered? I get to kiss you as much as I want.” In so saying, Wade kissed Peter long and lingering. Peter allowed himself to melt into it, arms sliding up to wrap around Wade’s neck.

Wade pulled back with a happy hum before resting his forehead to Peter’s. “You were amazing today.”

“It was… different. I’m used to not having a voice in Floa Bral, but I learned to have one in Kocrax. Finding a balance between the two wasn’t easy.”

“And yet you excelled at it.”

Peter tried and failed to keep himself from flushing at the praise. “We still have more to go.” Neena would return to Dowhea, but messengers would be in constant contact as they discussed future plans.

“The hard part is done. We’ll have a lot more time to determine exactly what we want to say and how from here on out. I prefer letters.”

Peter huffed a small laugh. “I think I do, too.”

Wade’s warm hands slid up and down Peter’s back in soothing motions. “Are you alright?”

 _Not really._ The tenseness in his muscles had barely relaxed, the tingling sensation of impending doom still ran like ants under his skin. Peter had been fighting off the desire to collapse into a screaming mess for days at the thought of war. Even worse was forcing his way into the Meeting, knowing that one wrong move could result in the thing he so feared.

Peter had spent most of the Meeting staring at the tiny dragon that seemed to live in Chief Thurman’s hair. Gyumorin were venomous. One bite and death would be a steady and unfurling inevitability with no cure. The entire day had felt like that — a slow spreading of poison that Peter could feel, was aware of, but could do nothing about. Coming out of it all alive with no war on the horizon left Peter feeling shaky with relief.

“I’ll be fine,” Peter said after a time.

Wade deposited a gentle kiss before pulling back with a soft smile, eyes warm and full of affection. “Let’s go home.”

Peter nodded and let himself be escorted towards the horses. Wade’s earlier words bounced around Peter’s head. _I love you._ Peter’s chest felt warm and tight all at once thinking of it. It was embarrassing, in a way, but a part of him clung to the words with a kind of desperation. They were words he had always so longed to hear.

_I sound like some maiden with her head in the clouds._

Of course, of the two of them, Wade was by far the more romantic and emotional one. That was precisely the reason why he’d so easily spouted those words. Peter, on the other hand, couldn’t bring himself to form them just yet. He wasn’t overly worried, necessarily. Wade had always given Peter the time he needed to adjust. This time was obviously no different.

Peter leaned into Wade’s side a little more and slipped his fingers between Wade’s. Perhaps he couldn’t say anything at the moment, but he could force his body to act. Wade squeezed Peter’s hand and hummed a happy tune to himself, an obvious indicator that for now, it was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been so out of it the past few weeks and writing has been a struggle and I ended up hating everything I wrote. I'm sure many of you know that feel I'm talkin' about. Also, I've been plagued with a new idea and brainstorming it has been all consuming. I'm gonna hold off, though. This gets finished first!!!
> 
> Finding a female child Marvel character to suit my needs was a pain in the ass. @.@ Also, is Blind Al the only old lady in Marvel with non-hero alignment? Yeesh. Also, yes, Dowhea is a matriarchy. 
> 
> I finally finished compiling all the notes for my extended universe. So you'll notice this story is now part of a series. The next part in the series is just the 11k of notes I organized. Feel free to check that out if it tickles your fancy. It has a more complete picture of life in Ostor and Dowhea if you wanna know more.
> 
> Anywho, it's my birthday tomorrow and I'm gonna go see dinosaurs. \o/ (I love the Jurassic Park movies. Even the bad ones. So new Jurassic World's release weekend lining up with my birthday is like a gift from Hollywood. <3)


	27. Culmination

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My laptop charger died. T.T I was on a mad hunt for a universal charger. Then I had to just stream of conscious write some stuff to get my grove back since I kept rewriting this chapter every time I opened it. o|-< This was only beta read by me painstakingly as I changed everything constantly so I'm sorry if there's anything weird that pops up. @.@
> 
> Anywho! Let's do this.

Peter had never truly seen the ocean in all its majesty despite how close he’d come to it at the markets. It had always been something he’d wondered about. The tales of how the water stretched out into the distance, farther than the eye could see, fascinated Peter. Never in his life did he assume that if he finally bore witness to the endless expanse, it would be from the air, riding atop a wyvern.

The sun sparkled off the waves, showing how they constantly shifted and moved, the colors of the water rippling in the strong winds of the sea. In every direction Peter looked was water and nothing but. He could no longer see even the hint of land. That was awe inspiring and terrifying all at once. Peter constantly had to remind himself to stop looking around and focus.

Wade had warned Peter before they left that the winds over the ocean were strong. Hitting the water would not be as soft as it looked, apparently. There would also be no place to land temporarily, and Peter had no desire to spend most of the flight with his body weight pulling on his arms.

Still, it was hard not to be mesmerized by the view. Occasionally, a plume of water would shoot up into the sky, followed by a glimpse of the large beasts that lived under the surface. Peter would let out a breathless laugh every time he saw it. In the distance were tiny dots of other wyvern, out hunting in the sea.

It was honestly a welcome distraction since they were headed to Cethad. It was hard to believe that it was already spring and the markets were almost upon them again. After much discussion with their potential trade partner, Cethad had requested a meeting to finalize terms and sign an agreement. That required Wade and Cethad’s king, Nick Fury, to meet.

The trip would only be two days for Wade, though it carried the risk of only him and Peter traveling alone. That was somewhat tempered by Shiklah’s presence. It was agreed that King Fury would meet them with only a small group of personal guards in return for Wade and Peter arriving unattended.

So the day before the meeting, they had flown to the city closest to the oceanfront and stayed the night. They headed out early that morning, hoping to arrive in Cethad by noon. The trip would have been much longer for King Fury, whose capital was far in the north. They would be meeting in the south, in the sliver of land that Cethad maintained in order to keep access to Q’otha. This also meant their country claimed the entire strip of oceanfront to the west of Q’otha, allowing them to build multiple docks for trade, fishing, and naval forces.

It made Cethad both a valuable ally and a problematic enemy. Peter was banking on that fact to keep the other countries at bay once the trade agreement was finally confirmed.

The shadowy outline of land appeared in the distance and slowly grew the longer they flew. Peter kept his mind on the task of flying rather than all the things that could go wrong during the meeting. They were prepared. Peter just needed to believe in that instead of overthinking everything like he usually did. So instead he concentrated on the shifting of the dragon’s bulk under him, only distracted by the occasional panicked seagull trying to fly out of Shiklah’s range.

It took longer than expected for them to make it to the shore. The ocean made distance seem so out of proportion. They traveled south along the rocky cliffs of the coast until they spotted the camp of soldiers that indicated the king’s traveling party. A signal fire burned along a flat clifftop not far off. The small group of people next to it were barely in sight from so high up. With a subtle command from Wade, they flew towards their destination.

Shiklah landed a fair distance away, hooking onto the side of the cliff and crawling up enough to allow her riders to climb off and retrieve the bags strapped to her neck. She stayed where she was, suspiciously eyeing the group of people she didn’t know in a territory unfamiliar to her. Peter ran a soothing hand along her snout and she rumbled affectionately at him.

Wade pulled down his flying mask and sucked in a deep breath of the salty air. “You ready?”

Peter looked over at the nervous group some distance away. “Does it matter if I am or not?”

“Ha!” Wade clapped Peter on the shoulder. “We’ll be fine. Let’s go.”

They hopped along the uneven rocks until they landed on the flat expanse where the others waited for them. The small party didn’t move to meet them, but had Peter and Wade close the distance, likely wanting to take the time to assess their would-be allies. Peter stopped once they were close enough to talk comfortably even over the strong winds.

King Fury stood tall and confident, a simple but well maintained eyepatch covering one eye. He had a fur lined coat swept back over his shoulders and a deep purple riding outfit trimmed in gold to show off his wealth. A simple golden crown sat atop his head. Peter gave a bow appropriate to their stations. Wade and King Fury simply nodded at one another.

Sir Barton stood with the small group and gave a nod of acknowledgement before him and the others bowed to Wade and Peter in turn. There was an awkward silence as they all gazed at each other, King Fury’s men nervously eyeing the dragon in the distance. Wade was not known for his patience and spoke first.

“Changed your mind?”

King Fury’s seemingly permanent frown deepened. “It is not our side of things that causes me concern. Kocrax is known for changing leadership often and the agreements of a previous chief do not always carry over to the next.”

That was true and it caused a lot of issues with treaties in Ostor, which was the only province that saw any kind of somewhat regular trade with other countries. It would also be the only knowledge that other countries had of Kocrax’s stability. Peter was prepared for this.

King Fury wouldn’t have traveled so far just to cancel on nearly a year’s worth of negotiations. It was simply a trade tactic made to cause the more desperate side to panic and agree to change the terms at the last moment for a worse deal. Swujan was certainly desperate, but Craxians were far more stubborn than Cethad was giving them credit for.

“I wouldn’t be so worried about that with my province. It took a lot to unseat the last chief, and I have nobody ready to challenge me.” Wade crossed his arms and smirked, the picture of confidence.

“For now,” King Fury replied, looking unconvinced.

“Are you hoping to renegotiate?” Peter asked.

That caused King Fury to turn his full assessing gaze on Peter. “You’re the man Floa Bral married off?”

A servant and one of the King Fury’s royal guard looked over at Peter then, faces twisted in disgust. Peter set his jaw. “Floa Bral saw me as disposable. My home is now in Kocrax. In that respect, I would prefer to see it flourish in my lifetime.”

“I imagine this has been a…  _ rough _ transition for you.”

Curiosity burned in the eyes of everyone gathered. Peter frowned at all of them, anger swelling up inside but no longer being as well contained as it once was. “Are we here to discuss our countries or where the chief’s dick has been?”

Wade grinned at a horrified looking servant. “Jealous?”

Surprisingly, King Fury snorted with amusement. “I appreciate that we will not be dancing circles around one another. Then let me get to the point: I wish to take advantage of my country’s opening agreement.”

Cethad’s bargain was large and Peter had always worried about them arguing against it. Cethad would be sending ships, laden with materials and men, to build a sizeable dock on Swujan’s shore. The dock had to be perfectly placed. There was a small stretch of land that sat just outside of wyvern territory but was far enough away from Q’otha to not be immediately noticed.

Once the dock was completed, the workers would build ships that Swujan would then be able to use for trade and fishing. There would also have to be volunteers from Cethad willing to stay with those ships and train the first generation of Craxian sailors who knew nothing about the sea or how to navigate it. 

“You seemed content with the five year plan previously,” Wade said. Kocrax’s end of the bargain was a long term trade agreement to pay back such a large initial investment. After the five years, they could negotiate trades on a seasonal basis.

“My advisors don’t approve of such a risk when your end of the bargain has such potential to remain incomplete. We know of your province’s concern with famine. Even if you remain in power, there’s no guarantee of your people being able to produce the agreed upon trade amount each year.”

A gust of wind snapped at everyone’s clothes, King Fury’s cloak whipped around behind him with a flourish. He paused until it died down enough to be heard once more. “You will be left with a new port city, ships, and access to Q’otha even in the event of your unfulfilled agreement. This trade is too far in your favor.”

A small town would indeed be built around the dock to house the workers and feed them. The farmland was already being mapped out and tilled. The fields would be small, but that far away from paeyo territory, they would be plentiful. Once the dock was built, the potential for the city to grow would be very high, with starving citizens seeking out a city that promised stable food and work.

It made sense that King Fury would be concerned about his investment seeing a return, especially considering that their alliance would mean angering Floa Bral once the dock was inevitably discovered. They would do their best to hide it and only trade with Cethad for as long as possible, but that couldn’t last forever.

“I’m guessing your advisors have some thoughts on what they  _ do _ want.” Wade was trying so hard to sound confident and casual even though all of his lines were rehearsed.

The council had spent long days coming up with multiple options in case their opening bid was denied. After all, that was just the nature of treaties and trade. However, they didn’t want to appear prepared. It would be in their favor if King Fury believed he was getting what he wanted and coming out on top, not agreeing to something that Kocrax already felt comfortable in offering.

“In lieu of relying on your uncertain circumstances, I will already have healthy, well fed workers in place on your land,” King Fury said, already hinting at his expectations.

“You want the workers that you’re sending over to do more than build the dock and ships,” Peter guessed.

“Kocrax is rich in metals and limestone, something my country is lacking,” King Fury returned.

Wade cut right to the chase. “How much?”

“As much as my workers can mine in a year.”

That likely seemed like a good deal for Cethad. In any other environment, perhaps it would be. They were not counting on the difficult living conditions of Kocrax, especially when the workers being sent were used to living in colder climates. If Cethad was unable to gather anywhere near what they expected due to conditions, it would end with Kocrax being accused of sabotage. Wade took over with the planned offer.

“There is currently an untapped copper deposit relatively close to where the dock is being built. It lies in wyvern territory, but there are ways around that. I can have workers assist you in dealing with the complications. You can have it all, however long it takes you to mine it.”

The copper deposit was small and too far away for any city to safely reach. It would have been more costly to attempt to mine it than the copper itself would be worth to Swujan or in trade. However, with the port city available and a group of workers ready to make camp and mine it as fast as possible, it would be worth it to Cethad.

“And the limestone?” King Fury asked.

“Assuming they survive the trip  _ to _ the mines, they won’t survive  _ in _ them. The conditions are harsh, which is why it is used for punishment of those who would normally be put to death.”

“Then what do you propose?”

“Half of our already mined amount that was set for this year’s markets.”

It sounded like a hardship, but it wasn’t. They had barely sold enough limestone the year before when it was still a rare item to acquire from Kocrax, and that had been far less than what was mined for this year. They had already planned to trade a part of it for the original agreement with Cethad, but also start a stockpile in the case of possible long-term orders at market — while still assuming the possibility of a change in the agreement with Cethad.

“And what are the quantities of what you’re offering?” King Fury was prepared to negotiate and needed no prompting for the question. He seemed to take a very active role in the details of his country. That was a good thing for an alliance with Kocrax who held similar values.

Peter pulled out the appropriate scrolls and handed them to a person who stepped forward, ready to handle the numbers and present them to the king. The information was discussed while Wade and Peter waited, trying not to be tense. Shiklah must have noticed the atmosphere because she tipped her head back and roared in complaint, causing all those gathered to jump — all except for Wade who just turned to grin at her.

“Are you satisfied with the amount?” Peter asked, pulling the attention back to him. A few of the king’s servants looked pale and unable to look away from the agitated dragon.

King Fury flicked his fingers at one of his attendees. “Pull out the parchment. Let us set down the details.”

Wade unhooked the horn he carried at his belt and gave a few blasts in Shiklah’s direction. She made a few more loud noises before pushing off the cliff and gliding out over the water. Wade turned back and gave King Fury’s eyebrow a shrug. “I sent her to get some lunch.”

“Yes, I imagine we’ll be here a while longer.”

A servant took the cue and started pulling out some light refreshments for all involved. Peter took a deep, steadying breath. They had a plan, and it was working out. They could do this. In a few months time, they would have a port city. By next year, they would have their own ships and fishing boats. Change was coming to Kocrax at last.

 

~*~

 

It had been a long spring and summer with much to do. Swujan’s first port city was finished, the docks ever expanding, and ships currently being built. The new town was slowly learning how to work with wood and mold it to their needs, along with the basics of sailing. A mining camp would be set up for the winter months soon and all the preparation for that had been extensive.

The markets had gone well. They’d sold far more than expected and had orders set for the following year. People were excited to see Kocrax set up after word got around the year prior. It meant less hassle with being allowed a space to sell their wares. Peter hoped that a few more years would see a habit grow in the trade cities and an expectation among the buyers. That would mean that the caravan could handle themselves without Peter’s presence.

Being back in the capital was always nice, but it meant a lot of work. Peter was immediately thrown back into dragon training, having been away for so long. He was getting better at it. He tended to team up with Lumpy, as he was the calmer of the trio, and listened to commands easier. Peter felt like maybe that was cheating but wasn’t guilty enough to attempt struggling with the other two paeyo.

Peter backed up and showed his empty hands to Lumpy. Once the dragon was aware of Peter’s current lack of treats, Peter began whistling commands. For a long while Lumpy had a low rate of obedience without a treat to spur him on. Recently, however, he seemed to be doing much better. He must have gotten a lot of attention during all the time Peter was away.

Under the Queen Mother’s watchful eye, Peter whistled the commands she prompted and Lumpy followed them. Peter tried not to think about how it felt a lot like a test. That would just make him nervous. Thankfully, Lumpy didn’t fight back that time so Peter was spared a lecture about how he needed to display more confidence. He had practically memorized the speech, he’d heard it so much.

“Very good,” Queen Mother smiled at Peter, but she stopped him before he could grab a treat for Lumpy’s reward. “Before that…” She flicked her fingers at someone behind Peter.

Hearing a loud war cry, Peter turned to see one of the other trainers charging at Peter with spear at the ready. Instinct kicked in and he stumbled back, ready to defend himself while half panicked and half confused as to why it was happening. Before anything more could be done, Lumpy darted in front of Peter with a shriek and lashed out his tail, hitting the other training with a hard blow to her side.

She seemed prepared for that. Dropping the spear, she hit the ground and rolled a fair distance away before springing to her feet, eyes locked on Lumpy and hands held in the air. Lumpy shrieked again, wings outspread, tail thrashing around in agitation. Peter gaped at the dragon. He was… being  _ protected _ by Lumpy.

Queen Mother made a happy little humming noise. “Well that proves it.”

Peter turned to her, mind still swirling. “Proves what?”

“He hasn’t been listening to commands for months, but he will for you without a bribe. I wanted to test it to be sure. As you can see, he protected you.”

Lumpy huffed and settled back on his haunches once he’d determined the danger was assuaged. He leaned against Peter like he always did, though he was the size of a pony now and Peter had to struggle not to stumble under the weight. Peter laid a hand on Lumpy’s head and was rewarded with a content rumble.

“Why…” Peter asked, but couldn’t find the right words. The trainer that had pretended to attack Peter was grinning wide at them. The other trainers were looking at Peter with a mixture of surprise, excitement, and jealousy.

The Queen Mother gave Peter a proud grin. “Your dragon has chosen with you. Congratulations, you are officially a rider.”

 

~*~

 

Peter sat on the bed, nude after bathing and trying to stay cool in the late summer heat. He was still feeling stunned at the news, unsure of how to process it. Wade had been running around telling everyone who would listen that his wife was now officially a rider. He was even now jittery with excitement as ran around the room, forgetting where he placed things or what tasks he was meant to be doing.

“Two years and you’ve already been chosen! You’ve definitely got  _ me _ beat by most of my life!” Wade laughed as he remembered once more to rub oil into his skin.

“Why…”

“Ah, you know how I am. I struggled to connect with—”

“No, I mean… Why me?” Peter stared down at his hands as his fingers fidgeted along each other. “Why would a dragon choose me?”

“He had good taste in men.”

Peter huffed and turned to look at Wade with an annoyed frown. “I’m being serious.”

“So am I!” Wade walked over to sit down next to Peter and link their hands, the residual oil causing their fingers to glide along one another. “You were meant for this.”

“Are you going to talk to me about destiny?” Peter raised an incredulous eyebrow.

“Listen to me, you’re not god cursed or tasked with divine expectations. You are a child of Sakit. The Queen Mother saw it the moment she met you, and I was a fool not to realize it sooner.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just like Sakit, you were born with a solid and unwavering core of strength. Anything that life throws at you, you overcome it. For every problem, you find a new solution. You’re a survivor against all odds.”

Wade lifted Peter’s hand and dropped a kiss on the palm before continuing. “Destruction and rebirth, that is what Sakit is, and what  _ you _ are. You see a system that is hurting your people and you tear it apart before building anew. That is what I mean by you being her child.”

Peter’s chest felt tight. He wasn’t sure how to handle any of what Wade was saying. He’d always seen himself as a burden, always understood that life was out to get him. He had to fight just to keep himself from being brushed aside and forgotten. Always…  _ Until. _

“So you think the gods set me in your path?” Peter asked, voice soft with emotion.

Wade smirked and shook his head. “Of course not. The gods have better things to do than meddle. All of what we humans do to each other is of our own making. Everything that happens is just life. I’m saying that your ability to overcome it proves that you are blessed with Sakit’s wisdom and strength.”

“I…” Peter was too overwhelmed to figure out what to say. He wanted to deny it all, but the look in Wade’s eyes, so full of pride and affection, stole the words from Peter’s lips. Sometimes Wade was just so… overwhelming.

Thankfully, Wade ended the need for a response by leaning in and kissing Peter. It started tender and slow, but quickly changed into something more passionate and distracting. Peter clung to the sensation, much preferring to get lost in the simplicity of their bodies than the thoughts running through his head.

Which was, in a way, an odd thing. Peter had started out terrified of how complex their relationship was only to realize that he had no need to worry. Wade was a simple man with straight forward and largely romantic expectations. All Peter had to do was relax and accept it, and Wade would drown Peter in all the affection he could ever desire. And really, perhaps it wasn’t so bad to give some in return.

Peter pushed Wade onto the mattress and handed him the oil. Wade’s fingers immediately went to his own entrance, but Peter guided them elsewhere. Wade was pleasantly surprised and didn’t argue. He slipped his fingers inside with care, making sure Peter enjoyed every moment of it. In return, Peter let his lips roam across Wade’s trails of scars, showing them the appreciation that they deserved.

In the two years since Peter had been sent off to Kocrax, his relationship with his husband had changed so much. He was no longer afraid of what it meant to show affection to a man. He no longer fought with himself about every little change to his worldview. And it wasn’t just him who was different.

Wade was calmer now. He thought about his actions before giving into emotional impulse. He was learning to trust his own knowledge instead of just being a proxy to the council’s decisions. He adjusted himself to the needs of trade and alliances and listened to Peter’s advice on how best to speak and act with foreigners.

They had both come a long way and had spent the entire time learning to love each other bit by bit. Wade wasn’t afraid of speaking that truth. Peter, well, he was always great with words right up until he needed them for himself.

Peter sat up and straddled Wade’s hips, earning him a wide eyed look. With a smirk that contained more confidence than he felt, Peter took hold of Wade’s cock and lined up with it. He sank down all on his own, showing with his actions that he was no longer taking a passive role in their relationship. Wade blew out a shaky breath.

“You look like a work of art,” Wade breathed.

“You’re so…” Peter shook his head with a rueful grin. Why could Wade spew such flowery words so easily? Did the man have no sense of embarrassment? “Let me do this.”

Placing his hands on Wade’s chest for balance, Peter lifted himself up and sank back down. His eyelids fluttered and he let out a breath. It was…  _ intense _ from such an angle — more so than he initially expected. He adjusted the angle and tried again. It was a little easier that time, so he carefully set up a rhythm, focusing on the blooming pleasure warming his gut.

Wade’s hands smoothed along Peter’s hips and held on, helping to support and balance, but not demanding any more than what Peter was giving. It was slow and sensual lovemaking, full of a connection that was sinking in bone deep. They kissed, filling each other up with a tingling feeling that flashed across their skin and left the colors around them looking a little brighter.

For the first time, Peter could understand why sex was seen as a form of prayer. He’d been raised to see it as such a taboo thing, only to used for procreation — anything else was a sign of man’s greed and a perversion of nature. It had taken Peter a long time to understand how different life could be. Now, he was realizing just how much he had missed out on.

The differences in his experiences were obvious currently. He trusted Wade but hadn’t many people in the past. Peter wanted his actions to mean something instead of seeking just a quick, hidden release. He was seeking to form a connection, to  _ know _ the person he was with far greater than he did anyone else. But under it all, the most important part, the thing that made Peter feel the bond he’d promised under the stars all that time ago…

Peter pressed his forehead against Wade’s, their lips barely brushing, as he closed his eyes and sank down, feeling the connection between them in his bones. It filled him up to bursting. His hands cupped Wade’s face as he breathed out the words that were long overdue for him to say.

“I love you.”

Wade’s arms tightened around him and hips thrust up to meet his, knocking a small cry from his lips, one that Wade’s mouth devoured in an instant. Peter could barely breathe through Wade’s insistent need to have as much of them touching each other as possible. Peter could feel his pleasure ramping up inside of him and he chased after it, wanting to share that feeling with Wade, wanting to bask in the joy of it.

Bright white sparkled across Peter’s vision as he dropped his head back and came. Wade buried his teeth into Peter’s neck with a moan, thrusting unevenly and filling Peter up. A blanket of glowing warmth wrapped around them, keeping them content and safe. Lips brushed up against the sensitive skin of Peter’s ear, making him shiver and cling tighter to Wade’s oil and sweat slick skin.

“I love you, Peter Benjamin Parker Wilson,” Wade murmured with so much affection, Peter could feel it in his chest. 

More than that, hearing Wade say his name so casually, purposefully acknowledging that Peter should keep his previous name in respect for the family and life that he’d lost… It filled Peter up with so much emotion that he couldn’t contain it. Tears trailed down his cheeks as he pulled back to smile at Wade with all the love and gratitude Peter held inside of him.

“Thank you,” Peter whispered, dropping a soft kiss on Wade’s head. “For everything… thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Second to last chapter. I have next chapter written, just need to clean it up. I might post it in a few days. I'm kinda having an existential crisis about this being finished. What do I do with my life now?
> 
> Also, that was the sappiest sex scene I've ever written. _Who am I?_
> 
> Congrats to all the people rooting for Lumpy! hehe
> 
> Harry finally makes his appearance next chapter! \o/ Woooo!


	28. Past, Present, and Future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy mother of fanart, guys! Look at this beautiful art! I've been screaming for days about it!!!  
>   
> <https://thatvixenchick.tumblr.com/post/175765108588/limeonik-ooops-my-hand-slipped-current>
> 
> And now, the moment you have all been waiting for: HARRY!

They were traveling across dry, dusty earth when a rider was spotted in the distance. There was a small group of them, but one had pulled ahead of the others and was heading for the large caravan at full gallop. Harry put away his spyglass and kicked his horse into action, riding ahead of the bulk of the caravan and giving the horse its head, a huge grin on his face.

A good distance out from both of the riding parties, the two men met, their horses wheeling around each other as they slowed to a stop. Harry dismounted as fast as he could and only made it two steps before Peter collided with him in a strong hug. They laughed breathlessly, elated to see each other again after nearly five years apart.

When at last they pulled back, Harry looked Peter up and down. The years spent in Kocrax had changed Peter, and it wasn’t just the flowing, brightly colored clothing. The sun had left Peter’s skin a few shades darker and his hair bleached a little lighter, previously soft freckles now standing out noticeably. His build was also bigger, shoulders and arms now chorded with muscle, body sturdy instead of the thin and soft genteel look he once donned.

“Look at you!” Harry exclaimed.

Peter laughed. “Time here changes a person.”

Harry wasn’t sure how to feel about that. He frowned and searched Peter’s eyes, voice dropping to make sure there was no chance of them being overheard despite how far ahead they were of all the others. “Peter, tell me now, do you need me to get you out?”

“No.” Peter smiled in a way that Harry had never seen before. “Don’t worry.”

“I know how you get when you feel obligated to help, but someone needs to worry about you.”

“Someone is, and so am I.” Peter took hold of Harry’s arms, grinning wide. “I promise you, I _want_ to stay. I’m happy here.”

That baffled Harry to no end, but he could see the truth of it in Peter’s face. Harry had done all that Peter had asked in hopes it would placate the barbarian that Peter had been forced to marry. Working behind Floa Bral’s backs, making arrangements with Cethad, sailing over massive amounts of cargo to the hidden Craxian port, and traveling with it through dangerous dragon filled lands had seemed a small price to pay to save his best friend. Harry hadn’t even stopped to consider that maybe Peter was enjoying his new life.

“I found a family here. A home,” Peter admitted. For the first time, he looked nervous. His hands fell back to his sides. “Does that bother you?”

Perhaps it would be too much for the sensible minded gentry of Floa Bral to contemplate — someone enjoying their life in the barbaric dragon nation. However, Harry was well aware of the burden of loss that Peter had dealt with for most of his life. Looking at him now, that heavy aura of sorrow was noticeably missing. How could something like that bother Harry? How could he even claim to be Peter’s friend in that case?

“Of course not.” Harry smiled. “I just want you to be safe and happy. I’m only sad knowing that it means I’ll be seeing less of you.”

“We should be setting up more regular means of transporting letters soon,” Peter promised.

“Then I expect regular contant,” Harry demanded.

They laughed and hugged each other once more, hands slapping each other’s backs as a way to express the heavy emotions they carried. It was so good to see Peter alive, healthy, and smiling. Harry had often prayed that such a life would find Peter. Apparently, it had, even in the most unexpected of circumstances.

Eventually, they gathered their horses’ reins and started making their way back to meet with the caravan at a leisurely pace. “Your last letter said you succeeded with the soil problem?” Peter asked.

“I did, but collecting the things needed wasn’t an easy task. You sure asked for the stars!”

Peter had the decency to look sheepish. “Well, I did hope that you could solve an ancient problem.”

Harry had searched far and wide for all the information he could on plant growth and soil types. It wasn’t his area of expertise, but finding the people who _were_ experts was his forte. He had at last been contacted by an alchemist that had been successful in changing soil to fit plants in various ways during his career. Harry hadn’t been fully prepared for the solution.

“For the cultivated land, I have rich manure from high crop yielding areas along with certain types of peat moss that will help to change the soil over a few year’s time to grow different types of crops. I brought the starter plants for those as well. Just keep them alive until then.”

“We have a plan set for that,” Peter promised. “Was there anything to be done about extending the farming area at a faster pace? It takes generations to make crop rich soil at the rate they’re going now.”

“There’s a solution for that as well. This is the point where you should be thanking me profusely?”

“Oh?” Peter raised his eyebrows with a smirk. “What did you bring with you, then? A jar of magic powder?”

“Just about. I have two hundred barrels of volcanic ash.”

Peter stumbled to a halt and gaped. “You what?”

“That’s your solution. Volcanic ash causes an explosion of growth wherever it touches.” Harry turned to look back at Peter with a haughty look. “Don’t say I never did anything for you.”

“By the stars, Harry!” Peter started walking again, hurrying a bit to catch up. “How did you even collect all of that?”

“Carefully and painstakingly.”

They discussed the details at length as they rejoined the caravan. Peter’s riding party matched up at the head of it and tried to act like they weren’t keeping a careful eye on Harry’s men. Despite the friendship Harry and Peter had, Craxians were still suspicious of foreigners.

“Oh, I have one more surprise for you,” Harry said.

“I don’t know if I can take much more!” Peter laughed.

“There’s a single barrel that was completely frozen in ice when we loaded it. The ship barely kept it cool enough, so of course it turned to slush. It’s melting fast in this heat and is likely no more than warm water. We should probably crack it open before we reach the capital.”

Peter glared through the curiosity burning in his eyes. “Tell me what’s in it! You know I hate this game you play.”

Harry indulged his teasing a little longer. “Your favorite.”

“My favorite what?”

“You rode most of the day to get to us right? We’ll have to make camp one more night, so we should eat them then.”

“Eat _what_?”

“Blackberries.”

The look on Peter’s face was worth the expense of transporting fresh Brals blackberries. Harry grinned as Peter got a little misty eyed. Even if Peter had found a new home on Kocrax, there were some things that would forever be missed. It was the least Harry could do.

 

~*~

 

Kocrax was _hot_ and working out in the fields wasn’t helping matters. Harry felt like he was melting on a regular basis. He wasn’t going to be in Kocrax long, but after two weeks, he was ready to curl up in the snows of northern Cethad. He wondered how long it had taken Peter to get used to it since the man no longer acted like it bothered him.

Of course, a lot had changed about Peter. Harry had noticed some of it the first night, but he hadn’t fully appreciated the extent of it until they reached the capital. Though Peter tried to shield Harry from the massively different customs of Kocrax, there were times where it was impossible to do so. Harry was still reeling about how blatantly scandalous the citizens could be. More so, he was shocked at how little it seemed to bother Peter.

Harry wandered through the city after discussing details with a few scribes about possible future arrangements. After all, he was still a merchant looking after his family business. The wealthier families lived on the west side of the city, which put Harry closer to the giant cage than ever before. Curiosity pulled him to it and fascination kept him rooted to the spot.

Inside the cage was a dragon, smaller than those Harry had seen wandering the city, but still big, about the size of a horse. On the dragon’s back was a rider just barely small enough to fit. Though not just any rider — Peter Parker.

Peter whistled commands and the dragon climbed up the side of the cage, changing directions as they were given. When they reached the top, Peter’s hair hung around his head as it left him completely upside down. He eyed the ground below him and gave an order. The dragon launched itself from the bars and twisted around, wings spread wide. They glided back to the earth in tight circles, landing at a run and slowing to a stop.

The smile on Peter’s face was brighter than the sun. The dragon was heaving in great gulps of breath as Peter hopped off and ran around to hug the dragon’s neck. He showered the creature in praise and the dragon in return made all sorts of noises and nuzzled at Peter’s stomach.

That first day when Peter had said he was happy and wanted to stay, there was still doubt in Harry’s mind. Harry knew Peter — the man was burdened with loss and responsibility. If Peter thought that he was unwanted by Floa Bral and could have a semblance of family in Kocrax, he would take it. If he felt responsible for the plight of the people, he would shoulder that burden out of fear and guilt for the home he lost in his past.

Harry had planned to talk Peter into leaving if that were the case. It couldn’t possibly lead to any kind of healthy life. But then Harry had started seeing at a distance what Peter was hiding. The way he looked at Chief Wilson, the affection as he greeted the chief’s daughter, the compasion when speaking with citizens, the work he was doing for the poor in the east… And now, watching Peter play with a dragon twice his size, Harry was starting to understand just how much Peter had changed.

Peter no longer belonged anywhere else. It was melancholy, in a way. Harry would miss his friend. He understood, however, that it would be worth getting to know the new man in front of him. Peter was happy, in love, and home. That was all Harry could have ever asked for.

 

~*~

 

Peter watched as Lumpy ran around the open area behind the palace, exploring and smelling everything, occasionally shrieking at snakes and aggressive chickens that flew at his head. Ellie was giggling and distracting him from eating any of the offending animals. Wade had a permanent grin on his face.

“It’s about time to name him,” Wade said. “Now that he no longer has to stay in the cage.”

Well, that was probably for the best. Peter couldn’t call him Lumpy forever. Ellie looked smug as she strutted back over to the other two. “My dragon will remain nameless!”

Peter furrowed his brows. “Why?”

“Dragons are named after your greatest fear,” Wade said. “As a way to prove that you will always conquer them. I thought you knew that.”

Suddenly, everything made a whole lot of sense. Peter shook his head in disappointment at himself. “I don’t know why I didn’t figure it out on my own.”

Wade laughed and clapped Peter on the shoulder. It also made sense that Ellie was so reluctant to name her dragon. She was still young enough to feel invincible. He smiled at her. “So nothing scares you?”

“Never!”

Wade gave her an evil grin. “You remember that year you spent with the Queen Mother learning the art of midwifery?”

There was a long pause as Ellie considered that. “Then I shall name my dragon childbirth.” She shuddered at her own memories as Peter and Wade snickered.

It struck Peter that Wade’s dragon seemed to have more of an actual name. He looked to the mountain where Shiklah resided before turning to his husband. “Why did you name her Shiklah?”

“It’s the name of my late wife.” Peter couldn’t help but give Wade a _look_ for that. Wade held up his hands. “Not for that reason! Well… A little for that reason, too.”

Wade grinned but it eventually morphed into something a little sad. He rarely talked about his previous wife, and Peter assumed that probably had something to do with him, but it was obvious that Wade had truly loved her. His eyes went distant as he thought about the past.

“She was fierce, you know? The most terrifying woman you’d ever meet. It’s why she took the tasks of traveling to the other provinces to seek help during the rule of the old chief. The wild dragons wouldn’t even approach her, they said. She was certainly a child of Sakit. Neena liked her, of course.”

“Sounds about right,” Peter agreed.

“She was on the council. I wasn’t. I only attended all of those things to support her. She forced me to help a lot. I didn’t think that anything we were doing would be of use in the long run, and I said as much regularly. We argued a lot.”

“You seem to have changed your mind since then.”

Wade nodded. “There was a meeting. Most of the council was there, ready to discredit the scribes that surrounded the old chief. They clung to the power and favor of the chief and encouraged his decisions that were hurting the people. We thought we were ready, but the chief’s scribes were used to talking in circles the ways that pleased him best. He wasn’t even listening to logic.”

Taking a deep breath, Wade crossed his arms and watched the mountains as the scene played out in his head. “So Shiklah decided that there was no point in talking about anything. She would face the judgement of the gods happily for killing the chief right then and there. Guards and scribes alike piled on top of her to stop the assassination attempt. She took out fourteen people before they killed her. I wasn’t able to get close enough to her to do anything…”

Peter placed a comforting hand on Wade’s arm who snapped back to the present and turned to smile at Peter. Wade pulled his wife into his arms and dropped a kiss onto Peter’s fluffy hair.

“So when I decided to return to the city, I named my dragon Shiklah. Not only because she was the scariest person I knew, but because she reminded me of what I should fear most — complacency. Had I continued to believe there was no point in fighting, had I stayed in the mountains until I died, how many people would have suffered for my belief that nothing would ever change?”

“Then it sounds like the perfect name,” Peter said, voice soft with compassion.

“You know… The gods may not have put you in my path, but I like to think that she guided you to me when you needed a home.”

Peter smiled and relaxed further into Wade’s arms. “I like the thought of that.”

Lumpy hopped after a rock that Ellie threw with the goal of intimidating it. Peter watched it all with a grin. He thought about what he feared most and how it was best represented. Perhaps it wasn’t anything overly complicated. Peter had always had a fear of the inevitable, of losing everything and having no control over it. Like venom slowly seeping through the blood. It was there, it was known, there was still time to do something, but nothing could be done. Eventually, everyone would die…

“Venom,” Peter said at last. “I’ll name him Venom.”

Said dragon trotted over at the sound of his new name, though it was likely all he wanted was cuddles since Wade was hogging them all. Wade laughed as Venom head butted him out of the way in order to curl around Peter and receive affection. Peter grinned at the big lump of dragon.

“One big happy family,” Wade said.

Which reminded Peter. Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, he pulled a scroll from his robes and called Ellie over, handing it to her. “Our rights to the markets ends with me since I can produce no legitimate heir in the eyes of Floa Bral and Q’otha.”

Ellie nodded as she unrolled the scroll. “I know, we’ve been thinking about—” she cut off and gaped at what she was reading.

“What? What is it?” Wade asked, curiosity driving him crazy.

“The other impossible task I requested of Harry.”

“What task?”

“A noble who has lost their bloodline to famine, disease, war, or natural disaster may choose an heir to continue the title,” Ellie summarized.

“I have no lands anymore,” Peter said. “So it’s just the title.”

Ellie looked up, eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “You adopted me?”

Peter blushed. “I would have asked you, but I didn’t know if Harry would even be able to accomplish it. I didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up.”

Wade took the scroll as Ellie launched herself into Peter’s arms. Peter hugged his daughter tight. “Are you happy?”

She nodded, face pressed tight into Peter’s chest. “Yes!”

Wade walked over and wrapped them both up in his large arms, openly weeping for the other two who were trying to keep themselves contained. It was more than just a document for the country’s future, and they all knew that. It was proof that they were officially a family in the eyes of multiple nations. It was proof of what Peter would do to protect his family. Venom shrieked his approval.

That day, Peter felt the favor of the gods smile down on them for the first time in his life.

 

_**~End~** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do I do with my life now?! @.@
> 
> Side note, yes, the peat moss and volcanic ash are the most effective ways of solving high alkaline soil, which meant Harry needed a looot of time to gather it. XD
> 
> So there were some creative choices that I made. All the characters in Kocrax were either villains, antiheroes, or toed the line. This was the reason behind me naming Peter's dragon Venom, symbolizing his transition into that world. I made this choice because all the other countries saw Kocrax as villains, in a way. Peter had to learn _why_ Craxians behaved the way that they did and reconcile that with what he knew to be "moral and right." In return, Peter offered them a chance to be seen as something more than just scary and evil to other countries.
> 
> I chose Nick Fury to lead Cethad because Cethad worked with the other Allied Nations, but still maintained their own insular world, and chose to make bargains with "bad" guys when it benefited them. This seemed very SHIELD-like, which is why I decided to use Nick and Clint to represent them.
> 
> Floa Bral was filled with people from Peter's high school and college days to really drive home that feeling of being attached to what he knows, and that love of his family, but also hating how life was growing up. I had place holders for an Avengers and an X-men character saturated countries (and having them be part of the Allied Nations), but I didn't end up needing them. lol
> 
> As for Peter and Wade, the job of leadership is never done. The political climate will be ever shifting, but I wanted to show the growth of both characters to be able to handle that as they continue into the future. And, of course, Ellie has been given all she needs to stand on her own when the time comes, she just needs the personal growth in order to be strong enough to lead. I believe in her! hehe
> 
> In my Spideypool future, I have a Prompt Bang fic coming out and then I'm plotting another long story. We'll see how that one goes. I'll probably take some time to finish up some short projects in other fandoms I've been kicking around before I start my next really long fic. There's also a few older Spideypool fics I'm thinking of adding a bonus chapter to. So keep your eyes peeled for all of that!
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who has read this fic and supported me through it! This is the most kudos I've gotten on an active fic thus far and I'm super excited about that! \o/ I appreciate every single one of you! <3 <3 <3 Thank you, thank you, thank you!

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up on tumblr for a nice constant stream of Spideypool posts and other fun things.  
> https://thatvixenchick.tumblr.com/
> 
>  
> 
> So by popular request, my cats have their own tumblr now. https://vixen13scats.tumblr.com/


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